A Surprise Engagement
by megosborne
Summary: Follows The Consequence of Haste. Jane Bennet is engaged, much to Elizabeth's surprise, but when Charles Bingley's heartbreak appears to be easing with his growing affection for Georgiana, will Darcy welcome their relationship, or work to prevent it?
1. Chapter 1

Mary Fitzwilliam crept through the familiar corridors of her childhood home until she reached the room that had always been her favourite. She paused outside its door, holding her breath as she listened, straining to ascertain whether there was anybody within or if, at last, she might have found a place of refuge, away from the rest of her family. Her husband, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, was absent "on business", which news Mary took to mean he was visiting potential properties located in the environs of this particular part of Hertfordshire. She had unsuccessfully offered to accompany him, eager to escape the chaos of Longbourn for an hour or more. _How is it,_ she had remarked _, that the house is emptier than it has ever been, with both Lizzy and I married and moved out, yet it is noisier than ever?_ Her question had been punctuated by a screech from Lydia and even Colonel Fitzwilliam had flinched at that, a pained expression crossing his features. _"Clearly you and Elizabeth were the steadying influences. I do not know how your father bears it._ " He had glanced towards Mr Bennet's study, but its heavy oak door, closed against enquiry or interruption answered Richard's question. _"Well, my dear," Colonel Fitzwilliam had said. "I shall make some enquiries of my own today and leave you to find yourself a quiet corner while I am away…"_

And so she had. Their own rooms had been quiet only until mid-morning, for once Kitty and Lydia were awake they had bounced in, like a pair of jack-in-the-boxes and peppered Mary with questions about London, all of which she had answered to the best of her ability, seeking an escape when her sisters descended into squabbling about the most enjoyable spot in a city they had only ever visited once before but had each nominated herself an expert in.

She had tiptoed past Mrs Bennet's quarters, pleased to note that her mother was thoroughly occupied in considering the particulars of Jane's wedding to the as-yet-unmet Mr Heatherington.

Mary pushed the door open, rejoicing internally to find the parlour deserted, her own piano empty. She flew to it, happily sifting through a selection of sheet music books she had left behind like so many abandoned children. She selected one at length and fell to playing, never minding to check her volume or her enthusiasm, instead enjoying the escape both literal and metaphorical that music afforded her.

Time passed without her notice, so contented was she, and it was not until Mrs Bennet herself shouted into the room that Mary's peace was shattered, her playing ended as abruptly as if her mother had physically stalked into the room and slammed the lid of the piano closed.

"Mary!" Mrs Bennet shrieked from the stairs. "Cease that infernal playing immediately! Did you not hear me say that Mr Heatherington's carriage approaches?"

"No, Mama," Mary said, meekly. Inwardly she marvelled. _How is it I escaped such an announcement?_ She had not time to wonder if her sisters were likewise surprised, for both Kitty and Lydia hurried in, squabbling over some half-forgotten dispute, and hurling themselves energetically onto the sofa.

"Girls!" Mrs Bennet shouted. "Do not run about, so! Such exertions give your complexions a raucous, ruddy glow. What on earth will Mr Heatherington think when he finds you so dishevelled?"

"That he must rescue Jane immediately from so dull a home!" Lydia exclaimed, a little irritated at being bid to behave, yet again, for another sister's suitor, and never yet securing her own.

"Where is Jane?" Mary asked, determined to play peacemaker and more than a little interested to set eyes at last on the mysterious Mr Heatherington.

"Jane?" Mrs Bennet blinked, her watery eyes struggling to focus, for she never would wear her spectacles, being vain enough to think they obscured her fading, but still not inconsiderable, beauty. "Is she not here? Oh dear! Wherever can she have got to?" Her voice rose again, a shout of agitation. "Jane? Where are you, Jane? Jane!"

The door to the parlour opened again, but when it admitted not the wayward elder Miss Bennet, but her father, Mrs Bennet rounded crossly upon him.

"Where is your daughter, sir? Does she not care that her beloved is but moments away from arriving at our home?" She paused. "Yes! Listen, there is his knock. Oh, how disappointed he will be to find her gone!"

"I am sure he will survive the trial, my sweet," Mr Bennet said, drily. "Mary, dear, so pleasant to see you once more at your piano. The poor instrument has been sadly ignored since your departure and I dare say she loses her tune for want of playing."

Mary smiled, assuring her father that the piano held its pitch admirably, and determining, privately, that she would play it all the more while she and Colonel Fitzwilliam remained at Longbourn.

"What care have we for piano playing when Jane is miss - oh. Oh! Mr Heatherington! Good afternoon!"

Mrs Bennet's complaint had been halted by the arrival of their guest, and she turned a simpering smile on her soon to be son-in-law.

"Good afternoon Mr Bennet, Mrs Bennet." A tall, fair-head figure with a cane turned a jolly smile upon each member of the family in turn, his blue eyes narrowing a fraction as he reached Mary. "And this must be Miss - ah Mrs?" He frowned, helplessness creasing his features.

"Mrs Fitzwilliam," Mary said.

"Mary," Lydia declared, with an expansive sigh. "She's just our sister."

"The musical one." Mr Heatherington raised an eyebrow. "Recently married to a colonel, if I recall correctly?"

"I see Jane keeps you well informed," Mary said, with a shy smile.

"Where is the colonel?" Mr Bennet asked, glancing around in confusion as if he had just realised Colonel Fitzwilliam was not in fact amongst them.

"He has gone to view prospective properties." Mrs Bennet laughed, a silly, ingratiating sound that did not altogether disguise her irritation with her husband. "He said as much at breakfast, my dear Mr Bennet."

Mary's father nodded, vaguely, and turned away from his wife, suitably chastened.

"I had endeavoured to press him to a game of chess. Fine strategist, the colonel. Comes of being in the military, I don't doubt."

There was an audible intake of breath from at least half the feminine contingent in the room and Mary turned, confused, to inquire as to its cause. Before she could ask the question Mr Heatherington provided an answer, accompanied with an amiable smile that revealed to Mary a glimpse of just how her eldest sister had come to form an attachment to the friendly gentleman in front of her.

"They'll not care to mention the war in front of me, Mrs Fitzwilliam, so I shall do it myself. In fact, I'm surprised you did not know if its impact on me and my circumstances already." His smile faded a fraction. "I am a trifle lame, but sound in mind still, if not in body." He turned to Mr Bennet. "Sound enough that I am content to offer myself as an opponent in Colonel Fitzwilliam's stead. I assure you, Mr Bennet, I may seem a good-natured gentleman but that is entirely deception. On the chessboard, I am as treacherous a foe as Napoleon himself."

Mary laughed, feeling rather sorry that Richard was absent, for she felt sure he would like this new addition to life at Longbourn and approve of him winning Jane's heart and hand, even if he had not the good fortune of being named Bingley.


	2. Chapter 2

Colonel Fitzwilliam strode purposefully back towards Longbourn. His day had given him much to think about, and he was glad he had not been making the journey entirely alone. Mr Bennet had given him the information of a man in Meryton, a lawyer, who would offer his assistance to Richard as he had done to many of Mr Bennet's acquaintances, and that gentleman himself, in visiting a number of local properties and securing one for Colonel Fitzwilliam and his wife's first home. The number of houses they had viewed that day had given Richard a great deal to consider. Ought he to stretch to the very limits of what his modest income could afford, and secure a house to rival Netherfield Park? Such an estate would require a good deal of maintenance but would secure their position in Hertfordshire society. Ought he, instead, seek for something more modest, where they might be comfortable, but not risk ruin in maintaining? He leaned towards the latter, grateful that the wife he had married was a modest, sensible creature and not one who wished for the best and the biggest property in order to impress their new neighbours. _I will discuss it with her this afternoon_ , he promised himself, already settling on one or two of the properties that were his favoured options. If she agreed with his assessments they might ride over together tomorrow to view them, for he was reluctant to make a final decision without his wife's canny gaze having passed over the property and giving her a chance to offer her own opinion. She would be living their alongside him, after all, and ought to be consulted upon the place they would call home.

This idea cheered him, and his pace increased in energy as he drew closer to Longbourn. A movement in the shadow of the house caught his attention, however, and he slowed to a sudden stop, before recognising the figure and waving, with a cheerful "Good afternoon Miss Bennet!" to Jane, who was hovering in the shade of a tree.

"Oh, Colonel Fitzwilliam!" she said, not appearing disappointed to have been thus disturbed, and by him. "I thought you were inside."

"I am surprised to find you not indoors!" He drew level with her, concern colouring his face. "There is no problem, I hope?"

"No," Jane smiled, ruefully. "No problem! I merely needed to escape." Her smile faded as she perceived Colonel Fitzwilliam attributing rather more seriousness to her words than she had intended. "To escape Mama, I mean. Her head is filled with the wedding and she can barely let a moment pass without some mention of it." She sighed. "I needed a few moments' respite."

"I trust you have enjoyed your snatched freedom?" Richard said, gallantly offering her his arm. "And as I return from viewing a number of properties, all of which your mother will doubtlessly enquire upon as to the particulars of their size and location, we might return together and you can consider yourself freed from her scrutiny for at least, at least an hour!"

Jane laughed, and took his arm, as they made their way up the steps towards the entrance of the house. They had not even crossed the threshold when Mrs Bennet's voice reached them, tempered with a calm that must have been artifice, for both Richard and Jane exchanged a surprised glance.

"Jane! Oh, here you are, returned to us at last! Where have you been about? Were not you aware that dear Mr Heatherington intended to call upon us this very hour?"

"I was not!" Jane relinquished Richard's arm and hurried down the corridor, shedding her pelisse and bonnet as she did into the arms of a waiting servant. "Oh, forgive me!"

Richard followed close behind her, eager to see this Heatherington fellow for himself, for, whilst he assumed a manner of polite disinterest, he could not help but be curious to see who it was that had so completely eclipsed Charles Bingley in Jane Bennet's affections, and to see if he could glean some true insight into the gentleman's nature. Darcy would undoubtedly wish to know, although he would never own as much.

"And Colonel Fitzwilliam too!" Mrs Bennet crowed, as he entered the parlour. "Well, now, this is providence indeed! Come and be introduced to Mr Heatherington." Mrs Bennet's voice had become little more than a reverential breath as she uttered the gentleman's name, and Colonel Fitzwilliam was amused to see a flare of embarrassment creep up the stranger's neck at being so admired. A hearty handshake endeared him to Richard still more, and his good opinion was sealed when Heatherington warmly endorsed Richard's own wife in his hearing.

"I have been introduced to Mrs Fitzwilliam and had hoped I might yet meet her husband. I have it on good authority that we are to be friends, Colonel, and so I would like to offer my services to you in securing your property hereabouts. As someone who has but recently undertaken such a task, I fancy I have some ideas as to its scope and scale. I trust your enquiries are enjoyable and have not yet become an unenviable chore?"

"Not yet," Richard said, with a grim laugh. He was not fond of business and had precipitously glazed over when his agent began throwing figures around. He was no fool, but he lacked Darcy's mathematical brain.

"What business are you in, Heatherington?" he asked, as more tea was fetched and the group broke down into smaller twos and threes.

"Commerce," Heatherington said. He exchanged a glance with Mary. "I was lately in the military, but as you may gather, His Majesty has little use for troops that are lamed."

Richard's features drew down in compassion. He knew well enough the trials of fellows maimed by war, and it was on the tip of his tongue to enquire after Heatherington's well-being, forgetting for a moment that they were not alone, and recalling himself to the present in time to prevent such a personal inquiry in the presence of the ladies.

"Where do you lodge, sir?" he asked, eager to offer some alternate conversation, and curious to know, now, whether this fellow and they might be neighbours. Country living would certainly not be stultifying with a companionable fellow nearby. They could not ride, of course, but there might be shooting, perhaps, for Heatherington did not seem unduly fazed by his injury. And it would serve Mary well to have one sister she might confide in.

Heatherington named a place, and Richard attempted to assimilate it into his widening picture of Hertfordshire. He did not recognise it, but that was to be expected, for he was still learning his new locality.

He exchanged a glance with Mary and saw she was won over by their new acquaintance. He would be too, he was sure, and cast a grateful thanks that there would be at least one sensible fellow living nearby.


	3. Chapter 3

"I hope you will be happy here," Fitzwilliam Darcy said, his voice little more than a grumble.

"Oh, we shall be!" Anne exclaimed, impetuously embracing Elizabeth, and turning back to seek her husband's agreement.

The promised day had arrived, and sooner than Darcy thought possible. George and Anne - _Mr and Mrs Wickham -_ were settling in their own home at Pemberley Lodge, vacating the house and clearing the way for Georgiana to return. Darcy was eager to have his sister home again, feeling increasingly aware of her absence. He feared the residents of Lattimer Place felt ill-used, although Bingley had assured him this was not the case. Charles Bingley could never feel ill-used by any soul, however, and his feelings were not necessarily so warmly shared by Mr and Mrs Hurst, so it was not without relief that Darcy established Mr and Mrs Wickham at the further reaches of the estate. They would be pressed into society on occasion, he knew, but the physical distance would enable such occasional meetings rather more enjoyable for all concerned.

 _Enjoyable_. There was a word he never thought possible of thinking in relation to the man beside him. Yet George Wickham seemed to have undergone some material shift in recent weeks. He had been working long hours in town, often so late as to miss his meals, yet he did not complain about his hours. When first he did not return home, Darcy feared the worst and had been moments away from riding out in search of him. He had begun constructing a mental list of which inns would most likely have enticed George Wickham back into his former hobbies. Yet, before he got as far as the door, it had open, and Wickham himself strode in, full of muttered apologies and smelling of nothing more than india-rubber and ink.

If this transformation surprised him, it delighted the ladies, who had grown closer by their so often being together. This did please Darcy, for he saw some of Elizabeth's strength giving energy to Anne, and his cousin began to speak eagerly of her plans and pursuits once more. She rarely mentioned Kent or her mother, and he fancied Lady Catherine's silence weighed heavily on Anne, but instead of allowing such feelings to draw her into melancholy she pressed on, intent on making her life the best she could in Derbyshire.

"Well," Elizabeth said, as their conversation dwindled. "We will leave you to get settled."

Bidding their new tenants farewell, Darcy and Elizabeth began a slow walk back towards Pemberley.

"We might have ridden, you know," he said, his lips quirking at the thought.

" _You_ might have," Elizabeth replied, archly. Swallowing a laugh, she took the arm he offered and fell to her walk, pointing out certain pretty trees or corners of the grounds that she particularly wished to explore.

"I suppose we might send for Georgiana, now that Wickham is gone."

"We might have sent for her sooner," Elizabeth remarked. "They have been together more than once, and no murder has taken place." She nudged him in the side. "A fact of which I am still a little surprised." She stopped, suddenly, the change in motion compelling him to stop, also, and he turned a questioning glance towards her.

"Are you sure you do not mind it?" Elizabeth asked. She nodded back towards the cottage. "Them. Staying here."

"Mind?" Darcy frowned. "I cannot say _I do not mind it_. I still mind it that they are married at all." His scowl darkened, then lifted, almost imperceptibly. "But I prefer it to the alternative. Here, I might be certain of Anne's wellbeing." _And certain of Wickham_ _'s good behaviour._

Elizabeth nodded, so knowing that it was as if he had spoken these last words aloud.

"I cannot pretend that Wickham and I will ever be friends as we once were. But we might tolerate one another. Perhaps even grow to respect…" his words trailed off, and he shook his head, ruefully. "Perhaps respect is too strong a word."

"But even you must see how much effort he puts into changing?" Elizabeth asked, carefully watching him for any reaction. "He works harder than I thought possible."

"For him, certainly!" Darcy began to walk once more. "You need not fear. If I have survived this long without running George Wickham through I think we might manage another year or two. Particularly if I am not forced to look at him across the breakfast table every morning!"

Elizabeth laughed, and Darcy knew that she recalled, as he did, more than one meal partaken in stony silence, with both ladies helplessly attempting to encourage their husbands into conversation and failing miserably.

"Perhaps I will ride over to Lattimer Place this afternoon and see how Georgiana is fitted to return," Darcy mused. "We might take a carriage if you care to accompany me?"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"You are very kind, but I must write to Jane."

Her voice had taken on an almost sorrowful tone.

"Ah, yes. The soon-to-be Mrs Heatherington." Now it was his turn to nudge his wife for a response. "Are you not happy to think her happy?"

"I am disappointed." Elizabeth sighed. "I had intended her for Mr Bingley."

This was too much to bear without comment and Darcy laughed.

"That is not the matter I recall! You were quite adamantly opposed to the match in London if memory serves."

"That is because I thought him fickle. Now I know he is not, merely easily led by that sister of his." Elizabeth tossed her head. "I had quite forgiven him his cruelty to dear Jane, even before he was so helpful to me in getting to Scotland. Now, I thought, I might invite Jane to stay with us here and introduce them once more and then we might all be happy together. Do not you think it would be pleasant, having them living close by?"

"You forget, Bingley still has the use of Netherfield Park."

Elizabeth sniffed as if she did not imagine him ever returning to inhabit it now that Jane was lost to him.

"I have known Charles Bingley longer than you," Darcy began. "And whilst I do not doubt his feelings for your sister were genuine -" Elizabeth was poised to counter him, and he spoke quickly to remedy his error. " _Are_ genuine, then. Perhaps he loves her still, I do not know. It is not as if we gentleman speak as freely or as often of our hearts as ladies would wish! Either way. I am all too familiar with Charles' propensity to fall in love quickly and completely. He has done so before, I dare say he will do so again." A thought occurred to him and he shared it without further reflection which was, he soon realised, an error.

"There is an early spring assembly at Newton in just a week. He is bound to stumble upon some pretty young lady there and all heartbreak at the loss of your sister will be forgotten."

"An assembly?"

Elizabeth's interest was undeniable and Darcy groaned.

"And now I see my error! Hearing of such a gathering, you wish to attend it, and will force me to accompany you, though I am an old married man and thought myself free at last of such obligations."

"You are free of having to talk to anyone," Elizabeth conceded. "Although I will not excuse you from dancing at least once or twice with me."

Hanging his head, Darcy walked another step at a shuffle, before turning, and taking his wife's free hand in his own, drawing her into a mimicked dance, and, laughing, they twirled their way back towards Pemberley, all thoughts of Jane Bennet and Charles Bingley forgotten in their amusement and happiness with one another.


	4. Chapter 4

_Dearest Jane,_

 _Mary told me your news. I can scarcely credit it! Why, though, did you not write to me yourself, wretched sister that you are? I thought us friends! I felt certain that of all my sisters, you and I were truly friends_ _…_

With an irritable groan, Elizabeth ripped her paper in half, casting it aside.

This was the third letter she had attempted to compose to Jane in an hour, and each had been similarly discarded. Even writing to Mary had been a challenge and one that she had not fully succeeded at yet. Pushing her chair back, she stood and walked a few paces, wringing her hands as if she might somehow wring words from them. She returned to her seat and reached once more for her pen, shuffling her papers until she found the letter she had begun to Mary and resuming where she had left off.

 _I am in shock, Mary, and there is no other word for it. Jane engaged? To a stranger? It is some joke, surely. Or else Mama has pressed her into it. How I wish I could be there with you to discover the truth. But, alas, Derbyshire is no small distance and we have cares of our own._

She fell to a description of all that had elapsed in the past few weeks, dwelling with pointed enthusiasm on Mr Wickham's apparent transformation. She knew it likely that Colonel Fitzwilliam, were he to see the contents of his wife's letter, would be as reluctant to believe such change possible as Darcy was. But she hoped that Mary, who had been still more kind and generous in spirit than Elizabeth was, would receive the news happily. She knew her sister cared for Anne as Elizabeth did and it was their concern for their friend that enabled them to think well of Mr Wickham, while their husbands arguably knew him better and judged him rather more sternly on account of it.

 _And so Georgiana will return to us, soon I hope, for I have not yet had much opportunity to know her. I thought at first that she did not like me, for despite their appearances being utterly dissimilar believe me when I say she has inherited the Darcy frown!_

Elizabeth smiled, the image of both brother and next to one another scowling striking her as amusing.

 _And I feel certain she has far more in common with you than I. With Anne too. Dear me, what a lot of musicians I seem to draw about me! It is surely some trick of Providence, for you know I do not have a musical bone in my body. And yes, I can well hear your reply, you need not write it._ _"You are as musical as any of us, Lizzy, if only you might discipline yourself to practice…!" You know, sister, that I do not like to discipline myself towards anything that requires quiet, careful study. My woeful embroidery will attest to that. No, give me my books and a pair of good boots to walk in and I shall be almost entirely happy. I say "almost" for whilst I adore Pemberley and feel quite at home here in Derbyshire already I cannot deny I miss my sisters…_

She sat back, lifting her pen from the note in surprise to find that, in spite of her attempts to dwell on other subjects, her words had led her straight back to Jane. Taking a steadying breath, she continued.

 _Tell me, do, how is Jane? I need not enquire after Kitty or Lydia for I am certain they are much the same as they have always been, although I hope a little tempered as they weather the marriages of not two but three sisters. I expect Lydia is devastated not to be among them, but Kitty, I wager, feels overlooked all the more. You must pay special attention to her, Mary, for you, I think, more than any of us, know what that feels like. But anyway let us speak of Jane, for my thoughts cannot help but stray to her most often. I had endeavoured to invite her to Pemberley, but now that she is to be married I suppose that is not to be_ _…_

She scarcely knew how she ended the letter, with the sort of trite sentiment she usually despised in her correspondents. In truth, her mind was already in Longbourn ahead of her note, and she strained to conjure an image of Jane that would satisfy her.

 _His name is Heatherington at least, and I suppose for that we must be glad. A thought occurred to me one evening, quite by chance and before I heard of Jane_ _'s engagement, that Mr Collins might make plain his intentions one more. Mama spared Jane only on account of Mr Bingley last time. With him gone what would prevent her from encouraging Jane to marry Father's cousin and secure Longbourn? It would be just the sort of scheme Mama would endorse, and never mind the happiness of her daughters._

Lizzy bit her lip.

 _I suppose that may fall to Lydia or even Kitty now._

She snorted, the very idea of pious Mr Collins being entrapped into a marriage with either of her silly young sisters striking her as amusing.

 _In that case, I shall reserve all sympathy for Mr Collins, for I cannot imagine him well suited to either sister or they to him. What a disastrous pairing either one would make!_

Satisfied to end on a happier note, rather than the despair she had earlier felt over Jane's fate and distance from her, she blotted the letter and sealed it, before she could change her mind. She was late in responding to Mary's note and did not wish to worry her sister unduly.

Jane, on the other hand….

Lizzy felt a flash of irritation that her sister had not written to her herself to tell of the news.

With an unhappy sigh, Lizzy turned towards the window, allowing the vista of Pemberley's grounds to soothe her fractured thoughts. _Perhaps this is what marriage is,_ she thought. _Saying goodbye to former friends and making space for new ones_. She had not spoken to Charlotte in a great many weeks, and yet she did not feel the same ache for her friend as she did for her sister. Charlotte was too sensible to acquiesce to Lizzy's determined plan to wed for love.

Her lips quirked.

And yet it was Charlotte who had encouraged Lizzy to marry Mr Darcy, Charlotte whose practicality in approach to matrimony that induced Elizabeth to consider carefully and make her decision with her mind as well as her heart.

Feeling better induced to write to her friend in light of this, she reached for a fresh sheet of paper.

" _Charlotte, dear, it has been an age. Tell me all the news at Lucas Lodge. As you may see from my enclosed address, Mr Darcy and I reside at Pemberley at last and dear me, how different everything seems to be now…_


	5. Chapter 5

"Darcy! Come in, do." Charles Bingley welcomed Darcy warmly to Lattimer Place that afternoon when Darcy rode over to visit. He had intended to call on his sister but could not deny his delight at being afforded the chance to see his old friend once more too.

"Georgiana is out," Charles said. "She has been pressed into a visit to Newton with my sisters." He grinned comically. "Although I wager she was not delighted by the prospect, but not quick enough to concoct a reason not to."

"I see you escaped unscathed."

"Barely!" Charles laughed. "Indeed, I owe it to my brother-in-law. Mr Hurst had some business matters to attend to and desired his carriage, and it was on that account the ladies went at all." He sighed. "I admit I do not regret their absence. It is not often one is afforded some peace and quiet here!"

"Then I feel I may come bearing good news," Darcy said, following Charles into a room he had claimed for his own study and sinking into a chair opposite him. "Mr and Mrs Wickham have absented themselves from my home to make their own at the lodge, and so the path is clear once more for Georgiana to return home, at whatever point she so desires."

Charles nodded but did not speak straight away.

"I rather fear we have imposed on you, and upon your brother-in-law in asking you to host her so long," Darcy continued. "I - I am grateful you were willing to, for I did not like to have her at home with Wickham under the same roof. It would be cruel, too cruel…"

"Indeed," Charles said, shortly. "And yet, they have met now. They have been once or twice in the same company and the world has not ended." He smiled, faintly. "Do you know, Darcy, I rather think you underestimate your sister's strength of character. Which is surprising, considering the lady you chose for your wife. You do not imagine all women to be dainty, delicate creatures." He frowned. "Or as highly strung as certain members of my own family have the potential for being." He coughed. "But you did not ever hear such an admission from my own lips."

"Will you stay here, then?" Darcy asked, changing the subject and allowing his friend to lead the conversation to altogether safer topics. "Caroline is content to remain? You still have the use of Netherfield, do not you?"

"Yes…." Charles said slowly. "And I own I had intended upon returning there. But now…with things…well, things are somewhat different now." He shrugged his shoulders, affecting an ease that was not entirely convincing. "I am undecided. I imagine Caroline would prefer to return to London, and so perhaps we shall go there."

He did not sound entirely enamoured with the prospect, and Darcy wondered idly if it was the notion of London or the company of his sister that was responsible for his friend's reluctance.

"You might stay in Derbyshire a while longer," he said, lightly. "No doubt you are welcome to remain here as long as you choose. I certainly do not regret having a friend so close at hand."

"You mean Mr Wickham is not close enough to do?" Charles had said this lightly, teasingly, and Darcy resisted the urge to box his friend's ears and teach him a lesson for his cheek.

"Wickham is not _friend_ enough to do," Darcy remarked drily. "And with Richard poised to remain in Hertfordshire…" he sighed.

"Ah, I see. You fear being henpecked with nought but ladies for company."

Charles laughed and Darcy laughed too.

"Yes. I would not have phrased it quite so, but yes, that is at least partly my concern. Besides, spring is almost upon us, and surely you would rather the country than the town when the weather turns?"

Charles groaned and Darcy knew the matter won.

"I shall relinquish my hold on Netherfield," his friend remarked, after a time. "There is little enough reason to return now, with Miss Bennet married." He lifted his gaze momentarily to Darcy's, and his eyes were falsely bright. "Oh, I know you will tell me she is not wed yet but it is near enough not to signify. I fear we had our chance some time ago and providence has acted so much in the intervening weeks that there is no going back now. Truly, I wish her well."

Darcy said nothing but reached a hand out to clasp his friend's shoulder. He had misjudged Charles, assuming his affection as fleeting as any he might have formed previously for other young ladies that crossed his path. The Charles he saw now was no boy, bristling at being thrown over for another. He bore the disappointment, but it was a disappointment indeed. Darcy must do what he could to help ease the burden.

"Come, let us go for a ride this afternoon. The ladies are out, you say, and I have not the mind for sitting idly indoors awaiting their return. I do not know Lattimer's environs well, so you might introduce me to it."

This suggestion cheered Charles, who was not of a disposition towards melancholy, and their short journey to the stables saw his old friend chattering as merrily as he had at any point previously in their friendship.

"You're content to ride your own horse, I presume?" He grinned. "Or if you prefer there's Georgiana's contented little thing."

This reference brought Darcy's up short and he raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, she is not Georgiana's properly," Charles said hurriedly. "Only she took a liking to her, and as neither of my sisters are fond of riding, nor of horses at all, she may as well be Georgiana's."

Darcy's expression relaxed a fraction

"I did not realise Georgiana rode."

"No more did I!" Charles said. "Capital talent she has at it too, for a lady." His smile faded. "You do not mind it?"

"Mind it? Not at all!" Darcy laughed, but it did not sound entirely genuine even to his own ears. "I knew her fond of riding years ago but thought she'd tired of it of late. I am sure it suits her well to be out of doors, only…" he was not quite sure how to phrase his next question.

"She does not ride far," Charles said, quickly. "And always as part of a group. I on my horse, she on hers. We even take a groom and a maid with us, poor souls. So we do little more than walking the horses around." He sighed. "Hardly exercise for a gentleman, so I'm glad you suggested we go for a real ride. Come, Darcy, let's not linger, lest the weather change!"

Their conversation naturally ended, then, as they took their horses out and clambered on, beginning at a walk and increasing the pace briskly enough that speaking again became almost impossible.

Darcy enjoyed the feel of the wind against his cheeks, and the enforced lack of conversation allowed his thoughts to turn over this interesting piece of news. Georgiana, it seemed, found time spent in Charles Bingley's company as enjoyable as he did. He felt a tiny flare of jealousy that Charles seemed to know more of Georgiana's hobbies and interests of late than her own brother but knocked it away easily. It was not difficult to see how, for Charles had a knack of being interested in people, and engaging them in conversation no matter what their personality. It was a skill Darcy envied, and valued his friend for. That such skill would be put to use on Georgiana ought not to surprise him, but nonetheless, he gave it consideration, and it was not until they had been riding some time that Georgiana slipped from his mind and he allowed himself fully to focus on their present exertions.


	6. Chapter 6

They had walked the entire span of Newton twice over by the time Caroline Bingley permitted them to stop and take tea, which circumstance Georgiana greatly rejoiced in. She did not mind walking, in fact she might happily have walked further or faster than either of her companions allowed, but the perpetual stopping to greet certain people, or pointedly to ignore others, and then to turn, the instant they were passed, and pass whispered comments on precisely who they were and why they must be ignored was almost too much for her to bear.

"Did you have any particular errands you wished to see to, Georgiana?" Mrs Hurst asked, when they had taken tea and concluded an exhaustive discussion of those friends and neighbours who happened to be seated around them. Her lips curved up in a less than pleasant smile directed at her sister. "Caroline is always eager to spend on account, but you have not made any purchases yet today. Perhaps some new music, or a hair-ribbon?"

Georgiana smiled blandly as if the promise of a hair ribbon afforded her all the happiness in the world. She had never been a particularly materialistic person and felt increasingly distanced from her companions as they gravitated towards several of Newton's more fashionable and expensive retailers.

"I have no need of anything," she said, brightly.

"Indeed, it is unkind of you to tempt poor Georgiana when she is our guest and you know she must not wish to run up debts without her brother's permission." Caroline uttered this in a knowing tone which aggravated Georgiana.

"Actually, William is very generous with my allowance and insists I spend as I see fit." She blinked. "I just do not have the need to return with new purchases after every single visit to town."

"No doubt you would win my brother for an admirer with that attitude," Caroline remarked, with the toss of her head. "He never tires of lecturing me on my spending, yet he cannot begin to imagine how necessary it is to spend money as an unmarried young woman." This last was muttered with a self-pitying sigh and had she not already exhausted Georgiana's reserves of sympathy, she might have won a consoling hand clasp or a smile of encouragement. Instead, Georgiana looked away, feeling sure that she would shake Caroline herself if she continued in this way. _Is it any wonder you remain unmarried when your every interaction is underpinned with self-interest?_ she thought. Any affection she had felt for Caroline Bingley had waned over their time spent in such close proximity, as she was forced to witness again and again how proud and selfish Charles Bingley's sister was. It was a source of great confusion to her that a gentleman like Mr Bingley could possibly spring from the same family that had birthed Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley. Then she remembered her brother's first writing of Elizabeth Bennet's family and wondered if it were a universal truth that every family must possess at least one silly sister. _That fate must be mine, in our case, then,_ she thought, with a sour smile. _For William has but one sister, though I do not credit myself as so very silly._ She might have thought so as recently as a few weeks past, particularly in light of The Wickham Debacle, as she had come to refer to it. She had made her peace with the part her own propensity to be led astray had played in the mess, however, and had put the past behind her. Compared to Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst she knew she must be intelligent, for they often made such ridiculous displays of stupidity that she did not wonder if it were a game between them to appear less clever than they were. But there were no gentlemen present whose own sense of self needs must be flattered, and they certainly would not wish to appear stupid in front of one younger than they, so she came to decide it must be accurate. She felt a flash of shame at such a judgment and wondered when she had become so scathing in her assessment of other people. These were comments her brother might have made, and never within the presence of the people whom he judged. _Perhaps we are not as different as I previously thought!_ Georgiana remarked to herself with a grin.

"What has amused you, so, Georgiana?" Caroline asked, spying her smile. Georgiana rearranged her features quickly and shrugged off her friend's question.

"Nothing," she said. "I was merely recalling something Mr Bingley said at breakfast."

Both ladies looked blankly at her, and Georgiana hurried to re-tell the story that Charles had greeted his sisters with that very morning. It was not a particularly funny story of a friend of his who had written a letter intended for a young lady's eyes, but been sent quite by accident to Charles instead _. "The fellow wears spectacles, or ought to, yet he is vain and does not wish to be seen blinking, and so he perseveres without and is forever making such errors."_ Charles had roared with laughter. _"Wait until I see him next, how I shall tease him."_

Mrs Hurst and Caroline had been horrified and were once more to be reminded of the story.

"Charles had no business in telling us that! How dreadful!" Mrs Hurst exclaimed.

"Nonsense," Georgiana remonstrated. "I think it showed his affection for his friend. It is not as if he planned to gossip the story about the town," _as you might have done,_ she finished, addressing her friends in silent censure.

Mrs Hurst shrugged, disagreeing with Georgiana's sentiment but finding the topic of little enough interest to engage in an argument.

"How avidly you seem to listen to all that my brother says, Georgiana!" Caroline remarked, with a sly smile.

Georgiana straightened, and coloured, feeling sure there was some slight intended in Caroline's words.

"Ought I not to listen to him? I happily listen to your own stories, too. Pray, tell me one now. Who was the elegant lady you stopped to speak to in the doorway?" Georgiana desperately sought for anything that might engage her friend in conversation once more and dissuade her from reaching the conclusion that was all too apparent to Georgiana herself. She could not bear to think that Caroline had deduced what she had striven to keep secret, what she had barely even acknowledged to herself until quite recently. Georgiana Darcy was fond of Mr Charles Bingley. She could not dare to imagine he felt the same, nor felt anything other than the natural affection for her as the sister of his old friend. Indeed, the quietness that had settled over Mr Bingley's manner in the wake of the news of Jane Bennet's engagement had not escaped Georgiana's notice as thoroughly as it seemed to have bypassed his sisters'. She wished to help, wished somehow to offer him some consolation and encouragement, but knew little enough how to begin, what to say, where to start.

Caroline looked at her carefully and Georgiana was certain at that moment that she saw right to the very core of her being. Silly or not Caroline was perceptive, and more so than Georgiana in matters of the heart. She held her breath, waiting for the mockery that was sure to come. To her surprise, Caroline said nothing, merely smiled a strangely sympathetic smile, and turned back to her teacup.

"Elegant? Pah! That was plain old Sarah Marchant, although she considers herself a well-to-do lady now she is married. Her husband may be wealthy, but he is little more than a tradesman…."

Georgiana let out a sigh of relief, grateful that Caroline's tongue be sharpened on poor Mrs Marchant, rather on than on Georgiana herself. _I must guard my words better in future,_ she thought. It was one thing for Caroline Bingley to assume some _tendresse_ between Georgiana and Mr Bingley, quite another if word of it should reach his ears. Or her own brother's! It would be too, too humiliating. Still, Georgiana could not help her mind returning to the breakfast table, to the way Charles Bingley's eyes had met hers as they laughed over his retelling, and she bid him explain, again, who he suspected the lady in question to be and whether he thought her suited to his friend. It had been pleasant to see him happy again after so many days of diminished spirits, and she dared to hope, maybe, it was because she had been the one listening to his story, and laughing along with him.


	7. Chapter 7

Colonel Fitzwilliam was not prone to worry. In fact, he rarely felt more than a vague flicker of anxiety in the face of circumstances that would wreck a lesser man. Now, though, it took a modicum of concentration to keep his breathing steady, and his heart beat rather more rapidly than usual.

"Well?" he asked, unable to bear the wait any longer.

"It's perfect!"

He let go his breath in a rush, and could hardly keep the smile from his face as he embraced his wife.

"You like it, truly?"

"Very much!" Mary nodded, enthusiastically, extricating herself from his arms to dash to the window and observe the grounds of their new home.

Richard had narrowed the selection to two and then invited Mary along with him to visit both. He had orchestrated to visit this first, though it was the furthest away, for it had been secretly his favourite and he had hoped, although he would not permit himself to confess as much, that Mary would fall in love with it the same way he had. It was hardly masculine to admit affection for a house, and Richard would never do so in mixed company, but in the quiet of his own mind and perhaps in the hearing of his wife alone he would confess that the house had charmed him immediately he stepped over the threshold. It was not a large house but nonetheless felt spacious, comfortably elegant without being stuffy. They would keep most of its existing furnishings, as he had little to add, having been often at war and living something of a peripatetic life since his return to England. There were certain pieces he might request of Philip, now that he and his brother were on slightly better terms. And there would be the necessary purchase of at least one new extravagance. He strode forward two paces, surveying the room for where best to place this imaginary piece.

"I think here ought to do it," he said aloud, his words drawing Mary's attention. She turned back to him, a quizzical expression on her face.

"It is a fair position for a piano, do not you say?" He beamed. "I suppose I ought to defer to you in this instance, for it is you who shall be playing it."

"A piano?" Mary breathed.

"I promised you one, didn't I? You've played so many different instruments in the last few weeks I don't doubt you are anxious for your own. I have made arrangements already but had no confirmation of where to deliver it, of course. I shall write immediately we sign for the house and it should be in place even before we are."

Mary's delight was worth every penny Richard had paid for the piano, and more besides, and she flew back to his side. Arm in arm they walked contentedly through the house once more, happily discussing what might unfold within these walls, admiring a particular view, or piece of furniture, and determining who should be their first guests.

"We shall have Mr Heatherington, I suppose, in addition to my family," Mary said. "His house is not far from here, I believe."

"No," Richard said. "Not far, although I confess I was not familiar with the place when he named it."

"For you are familiar with so much of Hertfordshire!" Mary remarked, lightly.

"I am growing familiar!" Richard sighed. "As would you if you had traversed as much of it as I have of late." He listed the houses he had visited in searching for the one that would become their home and Mary obediently offered him sympathetic nods and smiles that quite soothed his ruffled feathers.

"You are a hero indeed, and I cannot begin to imagine I am deserving of you!" she said, a sly smile giving her words a teasing tone.

"Willing to build our home a stone's throw from your parents?" Richard waggled his eyebrows. "I call that heroic indeed!"

Mary laughed and then hurried to compose herself, evidently feeling guilty for casting such aspersions on her own family.

"I think it important for your father's sake he is offered some refuge away from the women if he chooses it," Richard said. "I like him, and fancy he is not unfond of me."

"And Mr Heatherington," Mary pressed. "I know he is hardly known to either of us, and I am still adjusting to the notion that Jane is to wed at all, never mind to wed a stranger! But tell me, what do you think of him"?

"I like him well enough." Richard shrugged. "Although you are right we are hardly acquainted at present. He seems a sound fellow and I certainly look forward to knowing him better." He frowned, a certain concern that he had not yet fully addressed lifting in his chest. "Has Jane ever alluded more to the nature of his injuries? He acquired them in the war, he said."

Mary frowned, surprised to see her husband stumbling over this fact.

"She never spoke of it, but you saw for yourself how happy he was to mention the war when nobody else would. He was not shy in confessing his infirmities, and the poor gentleman could hardly hide them, equipped as he is with a cane!" Mary's eyebrows drew lower still. "I hope you are not suggesting that because he bears an infirmity Jane ought not to marry him, because -"

"No, no!" Richard said hurriedly. "Good God!" He paused, chastened by his wife's expression. "Er, I mean, goodness me!" He smiled, fleetingly. "If I thought a fellow ought not to be married if he were a trifle unfit I'd have never asked for you." He dropped a swift kiss on his wife's hand. "I know I appear in fine fettle but we are both only too aware of the legacy the war left me." He cleared his throat. "No, I think Jane a saint walking and perfectly able to bear with a man's injuries, and think all the more highly of this Heatherington chap for enduring them. No doubt it is difficult to limp as he does, and be a young fellow still, and be forced out of riding or racing or dancing…" he grimaced. "Well, perhaps he is not devastated to be excused the necessity of dancing. In any case, you must not think me passing judgment on the fact that he has an injury, nor the way he bears it with cheer and humour. I would hope you think better of me than that." He paused. "I only query how he obtained it." He shrugged his shoulders. "My suspicions are doubtless running wild after all that has happened with Wickham. But I quizzed him on a few areas of conflict, trying to determine what colleagues in the regiment we might share, for it is a small world, the militia, and I felt certain there must be somebody we both know. He was evasive. When I asked his rank, he changed the subject."

"Perhaps he did not wish to be thought a braggart?" Mary suggested.

"Perhaps." Richard was not convinced. He had never met a military man alive who did not enjoy to speak of his exploits, particularly if there were ladies present and his adventures might be retold to bring glory to himself or his companions. Richard himself was guilty of such behaviour on occasion, although he did not rush to admit it. No, this Heatherington fellow was evasive to the point of secrecy, and Richard could not bear mystery.

"I dare say you are right, my dear, and I am merely demonstrating my own flaws in wanting everyone to be like me." He bowed his head, chastened. "Let us invite Mr Heatherington to dine as soon as we are settled. Your family too, if you wish it. I shall do my utmost to set my suspicions to rest and know him better. Now, would you care to tour the gardens? There is a particularly pretty spot where the first hints of spring are waking up, and I dearly longed to show it to you…."


	8. Chapter 8

_I need not enquire after Kitty or Lydia for I am certain they are much the same as they have always been_ _…_

A squeal from somewhere else in the house spoiled Mary's quiet, and she glanced up from her letter, wondering if her sisters had sensed themselves thought of and must, therefore, make their presence known by shouting.

Shaking her head, she returned to the letter that had so recently arrived from Elizabeth. She had been surprised to be the only member of the family to receive such a note, feeling certain that Lizzy would have written first to Jane, or to their parents. Indeed, Mrs Bennet had been suitably disappointed not to be the first to receive news from Elizabeth of life at Pemberley and muttered unhappily some notion of her absent daughter's _taking on airs_ with marrying so fine a gentleman as Mr Darcy. It had taken Mr Bennet to kindly remind his wife that she had been first to approve of Mr Darcy for one of her daughters and could hardly then complain, once married, that he sought to return to his home. And had she not professed a great interest in visiting the young couple at that grand estate that had only ever before now been mentioned in an awed whisper?

Mary reached for her own implements and began to write. She covered the news at Longbourn quickly and spared a line or two to offer some detail of the house Colonel Fitzwilliam was in the process of securing for the both of them. _There is space enough to comfortably house any guests we might wish for, so you and Mr Darcy must feel free to visit us at any point, should you be able or willing to make such a journey._ She paused. _Georgiana too, should she find being at Pemberley at all difficult with all that has happened._ She wrote on for a few lines more, covering everything and nothing and feeling sure her sister would sense the delaying tactic and bid Mary hurry to get to the real information she wished to know about, the topic of Mr Heatherington.

 _I have met Jane_ _'s intended, and am delighted to tell you he seems an altogether good man. He is rather quieter than Mr Bingley, but certainly still quite amiable and friendly. He lives a little way from here, and was invalided home from the war…_

Here she paused again, her mind returning to Richard's questions on the nature of Mr Heatherington's injuries. She had never thought him a particularly suspicious person, indeed she had certainly never witnessed him eager to compare military records or question the veracity of a person's history before. It was the influence of Mr Wickham, she did not doubt, that had rendered her usually sanguine and cheerful husband a trifle more cautious, a little suspicious of any new person professing an affection for a young woman within his circle. _No doubt he feels guilty for not protecting Anne as he ought, although I do not see how he could have known that she and Mr Wickham even knew each other, let alone that they had planned to elope._

She turned back to her letter and continued, seeking to be transparent and tell her sister all, yet determined not to burden her with unnecessary worry.

 _You need not fear his intentions for I assure you Richard is a bear and determined to ascertain for himself if Mr Heatherington_ _is deserving of Jane's affections. He has become a brother to all of our sisters, and I am sure Kitty and Lydia will feel him putting an end to their fun, for he has already made contact with the regiment here and is under no illusions of the types of interest paid to young women by the fellows stationed there. Mr Denny, he permits, but others he has banned outright from paying any compliments to any young lady with the surname "Bennet". And Mr Heatherington he seeks to know better, not only for Jane's sake but for his own. I believe he sees a potential for friendship in the man, as he makes his home not far from ours and once he and Jane are married they will be quite close neighbours to us. Lizzy, I wish you were here also! Derbyshire feels so far away. I hope at least that you are happy. Do you know if Mr Bingley intends to return to Hertfordshire? I do not ask for myself nor for Jane, for she has not mentioned any of the tenants of Netherfield Park within my hearing. But Mama brings it up almost constantly. Poor Mr Bingley, she declares, leaving Hertfordshire almost as soon as he arrived! Father reminds her that her words about Mr Bingley were nowhere near so sympathetic when first he left, taking "all our hopes with him!" but Mama will not be censured, and despairs that he thinks ill of us, or else he would surely return. Nobody has dared to point out the drama that would ensue if he did, and lay claim to Jane once more. Nothing was ever agreed between them, you know, and I wonder at Jane's feelings, for she seems almost to have forgotten any Mr Bingley ever existed!_

A knock at the door urged Mary to lay down her pen and she looked up, surprised to see Jane herself enter the quiet parlour and slip into a seat near her.

"Mary!" she said, happily. "How pleased I am to find you. Oh! Do not let me disturb you." She noticed the letters Mary strove, too late, to hide. "Shall I go away again?"

"No, indeed!" Mary said, folding the letters roughly and shoving them out of sight. "I would much rather speak to you than write to Elizabeth." She smiled. "Only do not ever tell her I said as much!"

"You are writing to Elizabeth?" Jane asked. "I suppose she is quite angry with me for not writing myself. I know I ought, and to have told her in my own words about - about Mr Heatherington and me." Jane coloured as she mentioned the name.

"Why didn't you?"

"I thought she would not approve," Jane said, quietly. "After all, the last time we were together I was quite lost over Mr Bingley's departure and I know she intended us to reconcile. I felt sure she would be angry to see me turning so quickly to another, although I do not think that is precisely what happened." She sighed, and Mary said nothing, sure that with enough silence Jane would feel free to speak on, a supposition that was proved correct in another moment.

"It is not that I did not care for Mr Bingley. No, I liked him very much. But…you see…" Jane shrugged her shoulders. "When he departed Hertfordshire I felt that my heart would break. His affections were clearly not as strong as he had led me to believe and I - I wonder that I was not persuaded into thinking of him more fondly than I ought." Her cheeks reddened. "It had been so long since I had met any gentleman as charming and friendly as him, you know, and Mama was so adamant that we must marry and well…" She smiled, self-deprecatingly. "I know you can hardly imagine what it is like for me, Mary, but I saw myself growing old without ever having another chance at marriage. I rather fear I talked myself into loving Mr Bingley, and so I do not wonder that Providence saw best in separating us."

"And then you met Mr Heatherington?" Mary ventured. "Tell me, how did you meet?"

"Oh, have you not heard the story?" Jane asked. "I felt sure you must have, for Kitty never tires of telling it. It is hardly as interesting as she makes out. We met at Meryton, and were it not for his quick thinking I would have lost my shawl…"


	9. Chapter 9

"He saved her shawl!" Elizabeth said, thrusting the letter into Darcy's hands. "That is what Mary says. How, then, could poor Jane help but fall in love with the man?"

Darcy made a noise that might have been a snort, or a laugh, and shook his head.

"I do not wonder at their forming a swift attachment. For Jane was lonely, and he a new arrival in Meryton, and then -!" Elizabeth clicked her fingers as if to illustrate the collision of two favourable fates.

"Do you feel a little less anxious about the match now?" Darcy asked, regarding her carefully. "If Richard is on hand he will certainly work to ensure nothing untoward is taking place. Surely you wish to see your sister happy?"

"Of course I wish to see her happy!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "How could you accuse me of anything otherwise?"

He ducked his head, suitably chastened.

"I just…do not understand why she could not write of it to me herself." This last was muttered in little more than a whisper, prompting Darcy to rise from his seat and join his wife standing near the window. "We were so close, Jane and me. Now it is as if we are two strangers. Is this what must become of us?" She worried the letter, turning it over in her hands and, fearing for its destruction, Darcy reached for it, folding it neatly and setting it down on an end-table.

"Have you written to her?" he asked, gently.

"Well, no…"

"Then perhaps you must make the first move. It is not as if you have nothing to impart, yourself!"

The clock chimed and there was a knock at the door, which Darcy glanced up to meet. Here was Georgiana, punctual as ever.

"Come, Elizabeth, do not fret. It will all be easily got over between you and Jane. Write to her. Invite her here - invite them both, once they are married. We have space enough to comfortably house them." He did not say, _to comfortably house as many of your family as care to come_. Inviting Mr and Mrs Bennet and the remaining sisters would be a matter of course, but Darcy was not quite sure his nerves could handle such an invasion just at present.

"Georgiana!" He greeted his sister with all the warmth he could muster. "Welcome home."

She nodded but did not smile. In fact, she did not seem entirely delighted at the prospect of being home again at all.

"Was your journey pleasant? I do hope it has not tired you unduly -"

"I am capable of traversing a few miles in a carriage without collapsing, William," she said, with a level of scorn that made Darcy's breath catch.

Even Elizabeth noted the sharp tone, for her eyes whipped from her husband to his sister and back again.

"It is good to see you again," she said, her attempt to diffuse the evident tension. "Although I am sure you will be quick to point out my mistakes in managing the house!" She laughed. "Poor Anne did her best to help me, but I am an irredeemable case, I fear."

If Georgiana had snapped at her brother, he expected her to be equally unkind to her new sister-in-law, yet to his surprise, she softened, smiling tentatively in Elizabeth's direction.

"I am sure you succeed better than you imagine. I only hope I can compare as a companion to the friendship you have with Anne. I confess she is rather more patient and good-natured than I!"

"Nonsense!" Elizabeth dismissed the notion out of hand.

"Perhaps you will not notice," Georgiana said. "After all, you seem to have managed my brother fairly well. I am sure you will master us both before the month is out."

She smiled, and this time she seemed her old self again. Darcy wondered if she still bore a grudge at being forced out of her home in favour of Wickham, and was glad to have her here again so that he could begin to undo the damage the man still managed to inflict upon the relationship between brother and sister.

"Well, Georgiana, what would you like to do, now that you are home again?" Elizabeth asked, capitalising on their good-natured conversation. "Shall we leave you to settle in your room, or would you like tea?"

Georgiana shook her head vehemently at the suggestion of tea.

"Please, not another cup! I have drunk more than I can bear, and borne the detailed conversations of both Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst so that I hardly know what to do with the blessed silence that surrounds me here." She shot a cautious glance at Darcy. "I know, I ought not to speak so of people who were kind enough to host me, but really!"

"One person in the house seems sad at your leaving," Darcy offered, seeing his opportunity and seizing it before Georgiana's mood shifted yet again. She tilted her head to one side, curious.

"Mr Bingley."

"Oh?" Her cheeks coloured.

"Indeed! He tells me he would have gone quite mad without your calming influence, and also raved about your abilities as a horsewoman." Darcy was proud to recount his friend's compliments and encouraged to see how pleased Georgiana was to hear herself thus spoken well of.

"He is very kind," she said, quietly, dropping her eyes as if she did not quite trust herself to continue to meet her brother's gaze.

"Well, we must have him to dine here, must not we?" Elizabeth asked, laying a hand on Darcy's arm. "I expect we must invite the sisters too, although…" her eyes flashed with fun. "Perhaps we can engineer an evening when they might be otherwise engaged?"

Darcy groaned, watching a scheming glance exchanged between the two ladies before him, but he could not help but approve of the plan. He would much rather have Bingley alone than have to endure the additional presence of his sisters if such a thing could be managed without causing offence.

"Yes," Georgiana said. "And then there is the assembly."

"Indeed!" Elizabeth threw her arms around Georgiana. "You see, I knew I would rejoice at your being home. Your brother is rather less excited for such an evening, but I am reliant on you, Georgiana, to assist me in keeping up to date with what is _du jour_ in Derbyshire. I am sure it differs from Hertfordshire and dreadfully afraid that I shall appear foolish on my very first appearance locally!"

"Nonsense," Georgiana said, shyly. "But I will only help you if you will teach me to style my hair as you do."

"You have a bargain!" Elizabeth said, with a hearty wink. "Now, if you will not take tea, why not a walk? Travelling by carriage always left me utterly fidgety. I have already been introduced to your brother's own particular favourite spots in the grounds, but I am sure there are others. Come, do, and show me yours."

The two ladies hurried off and Darcy was relieved to see them so friendly. He was still unnerved by Georgiana's short temper but dismissed it almost immediately as a mere result of the upheaval of the day. He did not manage change well, why must he expect so much more of his sister?

"Will you join us?" Elizabeth called over her shoulder, and he straightened, striding after them.


	10. Chapter 10

Darcy walked purposefully slowly, Lizzy thought, allowing the two ladies to hurry on ahead and swiftly put a little distance between them. They were free to talk, then, without fear of being overheard, and while Georgiana was slow to start, Lizzy soon found her new friend had a great deal to say that was interesting or insightful. She shared the same manner of noticing as her brother, but was far freer with her affection and appreciation, lacking the pride that kept Darcy so aloof during their early acquaintance, and still now whenever he met new people. Georgiana was not artless, but she lacked the reserve that Darcy had. Either that or she was more able to trust Elizabeth than Lizzy had thought. All fears she had had about Georgiana's homecoming were put aside within moments of their beginning their walk, for her new friend grabbed a tight hold of her arm as they walked, and spoke so quickly and warmly that it was as if they had known each other years within minutes. It was to Georgiana, Lizzy found herself speaking once more of Jane, and discussing her concerns for her sister. Here Georgian seemed especially interested, on account, Lizzy supposed, of her not having a sister of her own.

"And you fear this Mr Heatherington is not deserving of your sister's love?" Georgiana asked, her brow furrowed in a manner not unlike her brother.

"I am surprised that he won it at all!" Elizabeth admitted. "When last Jane and I were together she assured me her affections were entirely for - for Mr Bingley." Lizzy faltered, then, unsure what opinions Georgiana had formed about the match, and recalling more than one sharp word that had been offered in the past.

"No doubt you have heard rather less than flattering opinions of my sister, Georgiana, but I assure you -"

"I have heard nothing of her!" Georgiana said quickly. "That is, nothing uncomplimentary. Mr Bingley has kept his opinions entirely to himself, but I dare to presume him rather saddened." She bit her lip. "Was it - was it so very serious a connection? I did not believe anything agreed between them."

"It was not." Lizzy was mournful. "And I confess I rather wished Jane _would_ scorn Mr Bingley, once upon a time - indeed I was poised to help her do it!" She saw an angry flash in Georgiana's eyes and hurried to explain. "Oh, I dare say it was dreadfully unkind of me, and I resigned the opinion almost immediately. I have repented of it ever since, for upon our trip to Scotland Mr Bingley revealed himself to be a gentleman and a prince, and quite undeserving of my judgement. But, you see, I believed that he was the one who had first spurned my sister. You say that nothing had been agreed, and that is so, but it was so very _close_ to being agreed. Why, they were practically known to be engaged throughout all of Meryton. At the assembly, he would scarcely dance with another, and they were often in one another's company. I felt certain his visit would come very soon - and then, just as suddenly as they had arrived, Netherfield Park was emptied of its residents, Mr Bingley and his sister had quit Hertfordshire for London, and all of Jane's hopes were dashed."

Georgiana was wide-eyed, hanging on Elizabeth's every word.

"I dare say Miss Bingley did not mention _that_ ," Lizzy said, ruefully. "She had her own part to play in separating the pair, for she did not think my sister quite good enough for her brother, and sought to part them as quickly and completely as ever she could."

"I can well believe her capable of that," Georgiana murmured. She looked as if she wished to say something more and Elizabeth fell silent, allowing her friend space to speak if she wished. They walked on in quiet contemplation for a few paces more.

"You say Mr Bingley did not speak much of the matter himself," Lizzy said at length, unable to remain silent for long on a matter that plagued her more than her sadness at being apparently forgotten by her sister. "Do you think him dreadfully disappointed to hear of Jane's engagement?" Knowing Mr Bingley better now, after his coming to her rescue and their accompanying trip to Scotland, Lizzy felt a strange responsibility for his wellbeing. Where, weeks before, she quite happily indulged in the notion of the man who broke Jane's heart suffering, now to hear it come about, and in almost the very way she had imagined, she felt nothing but guilt. Poor Mr Bingley did not deserve to be so disappointed, for he was so kind, so generous, and she had rather come to think of him as her own brother, even without things being settled between him and Jane.

"He bears it well," Georgiana said, lifting her chin. "I fancy Charles is not prone to melancholy, and, indeed, he made every effort to appear jolly and content whenever we chanced to be together, but whenever the subject was skirted, however widely, his smile would falter, and he would swiftly seek to speak of other things."

Georgiana spoke with such compassion that Lizzy stopped walking to look at her. There was something in her countenance that Elizabeth had never noticed before, some hurt that suggested that she, too, was saddened to know that Jane had married another. Lizzy's eyes narrowed. No, that was not entirely it. She was saddened to see _Mr Bingley_ know that Jane had married another. Realisation dawned, and before Lizzy could stop herself she had let out a surprised, "Oh!"

"Oh?" Georgiana was herself once more and looked with concern at her friend. "What is the matter?"

"Oh…I…I caught my foot on a ridge!" Elizabeth said, hurriedly concocting an excuse for her strange reaction. She kicked at the dirt and hurried into motion once more. "Not looking where I was going, silly of me really. Dear me, look how dark it gets! Perhaps we ought to return indoors. Look, your brother is catching up with us now." She turned to her husband, her eyes sparkling with triumph that he neither understood nor, if truth be told, noticed. "My dear husband! Will you go on ahead and ensure the parlour is quite warm for our return? I am sure Georgiana is half frozen and we really ought not to cause her to take sick before she is even properly home!"

With an obedient nod, Darcy departed, and Georgiana turned an apprehensive glance towards her friend.

"Are you sure you are quite well, Elizabeth? I am quite content to keep walking."

"Yes, indeed, another time!" Lizzy waved away her concerns. "I was just thinking, my dear, that perhaps your return will be reason enough for us to host a dinner. What say you to tomorrow night? I am sure your brother will happily ride over and invite Mr Bingley hence…" she talked quickly, rattling out details that were scarcely as yet fixed in her mind, only seizing upon the solution to two problems in one, and wishing to act immediately upon her plan. Poor Mr Bingley's hopes had been thwarted, but he would rally and love again, and here was the very person who might help him to do so! He was evidently fond of Georgiana and valued her as a friend. Surely it would not be too difficult a task to edge friendship into affection? And Georgiana had betrayed herself by the very mention of Mr Bingley as "Charles". _It is too perfect! How happy they will be together. And how happy Darcy will be with the arrangement!_


	11. Chapter 11

"What are you doing?" Darcy asked, eyeing Elizabeth suspiciously as they sat together that evening. Georgiana had retired shortly after their meal, and Elizabeth had claimed she planned to do the same, and yet Darcy had not been alone in his study five minutes before she burst in, glancing furtively over her shoulder as if she were a burglar and not rightful mistress of the house.

"I wished to be sure we were alone," Elizabeth whispered.

"Why?" Darcy was nonplussed. "This is our house, what need have we of secrecy?"

"It is not _our_ need, dear! Now, cease what you are doing and listen to me, for I have a plan and I wish to consult my husband on its execution."

Smiling good-naturedly, and still in the earliest throes of marriage to be willing to grant his bride whatever notion entered her head, he set aside his book, and turned his chair, angling it towards its second, which he gestured her towards.

"We may discuss matters here, then, if you wish, although I dare say it is hardly comfortable enough for a lady…wouldn't you be happier in the parlour? Or the library?" He made as if to stand until Elizabeth bid him stay. "I shall draw the line at pouring you a drink," he said, downing the contents of his glass and setting it down on his desk, before returning his attention entirely to his wife. "Well, Mrs Darcy, you have me utterly in your thrall. What do you wish to discuss that cannot possibly wait until morning?"

"Mr Bingley," Elizabeth said, triumphantly.

Darcy laughed.

"Indeed, a desperately pressing concern. Something in particular _about_ Mr Bingley? Perhaps his hobbies, his favourite colour, his hopes for the future?"

"Yes." Elizabeth nodded, enigmatically.

Darcy frowned.

"You are speaking in riddles!" he complained. "Worse, you are not speaking at all, it is I who am speaking and none of this makes even a particle of sense. It is late, and I am tired. Be fair, my love, and speak plainly. What worries you about Mr Bingley?"

"I wish to invite him to dinner."

This announcement was made with such fanfare and evident pride on the part of his wife, that Darcy's noncommittal reaction was an evident disappointment.

"Very well, of course, we may invite him to dine," Darcy said, shrugging his shoulders. "I do not see why such a discussion must be had immediately, and in secret!"

"I think it would please Georgiana to see him again," Elizabeth said, stubbornly.

"Georgiana? She said goodbye to him just today, surely she cannot miss him so much already. And in any case, why should she miss him at all? It is not as if they are particular friends."

Elizabeth's eyes widened a fraction as he spoke, and she looked at him with expectancy.

Darcy returned her stare with one of his own, his brow furrowing. At length, she looked away, throwing her hands up in despair.

"You are so slow-witted!"

"I am entirely normally-witted! You forget, dear, that I cannot know what goes on inside your head unless you allow it to pass through your lips. I am only permitted to know every third or fourth word of the plan that obviously makes implicit sense to you, and so I am struggling to deduce even the barest logic of it. Begin again. You wish Mr Bingley to dine here, to which I agree. We may invite him any time you wish, and I am sure he will be delighted to come here and escape his sisters for an evening, or bring them with him and share them with us. Now you mention Georgiana as if her presence must be considered in connection with Mr Bingley. He is kind to her, as well he ought to be, for he has been my friend for a long time and known Georgie most of her life. I wager he would be quite as eager to see you again, for he considers you almost as much a friend, and a far more amiable sort of feminine companion than those he is forced into association with by birth."

"Oh, Mr Bingley is friend enough to me on account of my marriage to you," Elizabeth allowed. "But I wager he values Georgiana entirely in her own right." She beamed at him expectantly, and waited, while in Darcy's mind the pieces slowly began to fit together to form a kind of sense.

"You cannot mean…" He shook his head. "But he is so much older than she is. Georgiana is a child!"

"Hardly a child! She is a little young, but certainly not childish, or naive. Why, she is the same age as Lydia!"

"Is this comparison intended to elevate either young lady?" Darcy said, crossly, putting heavy emphasis on the word _young_.

"She is but a few years younger than I am! And Bingley a little younger than you. It is not so great a difference in age. And in any case, can you think of any gentleman better suited to her?"

"I can think of several!" Darcy spat, but even as he uttered the words he knew he was saying them merely to contradict his wife and offer an alternative to the suggestion he was not entirely sure he approved of. "That is…Bingley is a good fellow and Georgiana…" He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Georgiana could do far worse than securing the heart of so kind a fellow as Charles Bingley. She already had and proved that not all gentleman could be so easily trusted.

"They hardly know each other," he said, at last, the excuse sounding as feeble to his ears as it had in his head. "And you said yourself that Bingley is wretched over your sister. I certainly do not wish my own sister to become a consolation prize."

"That is not my suggestion at all!" Lizzy said, reaching out and taking one of his hands in both of hers. "And it is, I confess, merely suspicion on my part. I have not seen them together enough to truly judge if my belief is correct."

"It isn't."

"It may not be," she conceded. "But if it is…would you not like to help them?"

Darcy drew a long breath, holding it a moment before letting it out in a sigh.

"I did not realise that marrying you would make me chief meddler in the lives of every poor soul who crosses my path," he grumbled. "First Richard, then Wickham, now Charles." He shook his head. "I draw the line at any more. This Hollington chap and whoever Catherine and Lydia contrive to marry - they shall be left to manage on their own!"

Lizzy smiled, and he was grateful that she did not see the need to correct him on the name of Jane's affianced.

"Georgiana…and Charles. Do you truly think it likely?"

"Possible," Lizzy conceded. "I thought I saw something in Georgiana's features earlier when we talked. I wish to test my theory, and then, my dear, I will defer to you on any intervention you deem necessary."

This was murmured so penitently that Darcy felt another laugh bubbling up inside him.

"It is all very well you be contrite now, wife of mine. I do not for one moment believe you capable of deferring to me when it comes to the happiness of our friends and family." He pulled her closer to him. "It is fortunate, then, that I will bow to your superior knowledge of the workings of the female mind and of the heart. I have never claimed to be an expert in those matters."

"How fortunate, then, that you married me!" Lizzy said, with a satisfied grin.


	12. Chapter 12

Charles Bingley rode the familiar path to Pemberley early. He had contemplated taking the carriage, wondering if that were more the thing a gentleman ought to do Ordinarily he would inquire of his friend, but as Darcy's was the destination, he was forced to make his own decision and make it quickly. He had no desire to take a carriage by himself for so short a distance, and instead, travelled by horse, arriving a little rumpled but quite content to be once more among friends.

Caroline had been disappointed to hear of his visiting Pemberley alone, but she had already agreed to accompany Mr and Mrs Hurst to another dinner, which engagement Bingley had a sneaking suspicion was known about at Pemberley and thus the reason for this particular date being selected as the one in which he would visit them. He could not own any disappointment at travelling alone, for Caroline contributed an unhappy air to gatherings such as this, and she had herself never been particularly close to either Mr or Mrs Darcy since news of their marriage had broken. He rather felt that even Georgiana Darcy had slipped in her estimation, after so many days in one another's company. For him, the opposite was true, and he had found the young Miss Darcy even more amiable and intelligent than he remembered. She was quite pretty too, which was always a pleasant addition to a dining table.

"Mr Bingley, good evening!" His first greeting came from Mrs Darcy, who rose to meet him with a warm smile. His eyes traversed to Darcy, next, who hung back a pace behind his wife, a severe look playing about his dark eyes. The next moment, the look was gone, and his friend greeted him as he had a hundred evenings before. At length Charles noticed Georgiana, haunting the piano.

"Are you to play for us, Georgie?" he asked, with a bright smile.

"Perhaps later," Elizabeth said, laying a hand on her husband's arm. "How are your sisters, Mr Bingley?"

"Oh, well, well…" he said, accepting with a grateful smile the aperitif he was offered and merrily drinking it. "Ganging up on me, both, about where we shall go to next."

"Oh?"

"Mrs Hurst will stay where she is, of course, and pleads with us to remain, although I think her husband would prefer his home to be free of guests, even family members. Caroline is pitched for London, but I…"

"You do not wish to return there?" There was an innocent tone to Elizabeth's line of questioning, but Charles had a distinct impression, from the way the energy in the room shifted, that much rested on his response. Where he ordinarily might have dashed off whatever first came to mind, this time he answered slowly, honestly. He shook his head.

"I do not. London is too busy, and I fear that now I have been spoiled for the town forever by the countryside. I am loathed to give it up!"

"You still have Netherfield Park, is that not so?"

"Alas, no longer!" Charles said, a hint of his old cheer returning to his voice. "Gave it up. Didn't seem much point in keeping hold of it, now that -" he glanced at Elizabeth, and then back towards Darcy. He had come so close to mentioning Jane by name before her sister, and yet he recognised the ill wisdom of doing so. He would not like to be thought of as passing judgment on Jane or blaming her for being happy. No, she was free to do entirely as she chose. It was his own fault that he had not proposed to her when he had the chance. If she could find happiness with another, well, then, they would have his blessing.

Blinking, suddenly, he realised that all three of his friends were staring at him askance, and he recalled himself to his comment with a rueful shake of the head.

"In any case, I wrote to the owner and relinquished my hold on it. I dare say he can find another to take it for the summer. So I am free to go where I choose, just as soon as I make a decision!"

"You might find plenty of pleasure in the countryside about Derbyshire," Elizabeth said, with a strangely knowing smile. "Might not he, dear? Surely you know of one or two properties that might suit?"

Darcy said nothing but harrumphed and crossed the room to where Georgiana stood, immediately engaging her in a conversation, their voices too low for Charles to gather anything but the vaguest hint of their topic.

"Is something amiss?" he asked Elizabeth, with a nod towards her husband. "I thought I knew every one of Darcy's moods, and how to avoid them, but here he seems altogether peculiar." He raised his eyebrows in recollection. "Ah, but I see. I imagine he has had some set-to with Wickham and is unable to shake his mood."

"No, no," Elizabeth said, with a patient smile. "We have scarcely seen Mr and Mrs Wickham since they moved out to the lodge, although I believe them to be settling well. My husband takes pains to keep tabs on Wickham's work, without letting him know it, of course, and by all accounts, he is progressing quickly and well. I am glad, for Anne's sake, and for ours. I never did think George Wickham entirely irredeemable, although he certainly made as good a show as any of being a villain."

Bingley snorted, unable to succinctly summarise his own view of the caddish Wickham in words fit for a lady's ears. _I am only too glad I did not cross his path in times past,_ he thought, recalling the scant detail Darcy had given him of Wickham's attempt to tarry with Georgiana. It was too cruel, to set one's attentions on so sweet and innocent a creature, and he should have dearly loved to exact revenge on his friend's behalf against the cad. However, even he had to admit that the man they had met at Scotland seemed entirely different to the Wickham of Darcy's account.

"I hope he has changed, for his sake as much as ours," he said, in a low voice. "He'd not dare to cross Darcy again, for I wager he has outlasted his final chance and Darcy would scarcely be held responsible for his actions." He paused, then, recalling to whom it was he was speaking and tempered his opinion. "Or perhaps that is mere bluster. You must understand, Mrs Darcy, that the threats a man makes amongst his friends hardly compare to what he might actually consent to do, when it comes time to."

They were summoned just then to go in to dinner, and it seemed to Charles quite by chance that the next time he looked up he found himself standing beside Georgiana Darcy, who he cheerfully escorted into dinner. She, too, seemed to have inherited her brother's peculiar mood, however. Gone was the contented, happy creature who had lodged so recently at Lattimer Place. This Georgiana smiled, looked pained, and looked away, before stumbling almost reluctantly towards a possible topic of conversation.

"Tell me, Mr Bingley, what - what has happened at Lattimer Place since I left it?"

"Since yesterday?" he chuckled, abruptly ending his laughter when he saw a dark flash of what might have been embarrassment colour Georgiana's cheeks.

"Oh, it is much the same as usual," he conceded, with a light sigh. "My sisters bicker. My brother-in-law sleeps." He leaned close enough that his conspiratorial whisper might carry to Georgiana's ears and no further. "I am in desperate need of conversation and occupation, Miss Georgiana. I am being driven to distraction, and so you see, to be offered the chance of escape this evening? Why, I grabbed for it, as a drowning man for a rope. I can hardly believe it is but a day since my most interesting companion left, for I do not know how on earth I shall go on without you!"

It was a humorous comment, lightly made, but he was pleased to see the reaction it sparked in Georgiana. She smiled, then, really, truly smiled, and seemed to come once more to herself.

"You must try!" she said. "For I certainly won't be made to return. I am sad to say even your sorry plight could not induce me to place myself in between your sisters once more! Do enlighten me, Mr Bingley, did they ever solve the mystery of the missing bonnet?"

"Ah, now! That is a tale indeed…"


	13. Chapter 13

"Is Miss Bingley eager for the assembly?" Elizabeth asked, once the party had settled into their meal. "I recall how fond she is of dancing."

Charles smiled wryly and paused a moment before replying, evidently weighing his words.

"Fond of dancing, yes. But I do not know that I would call Caroline _eager_ to attend a ball in the heady environs of Newton." He shook his head. "She would much prefer to be doing so in London, where she might meet new acquaintances."

Darcy watched this exchange in silence, but he scarcely heard a word. He had been unable to glance away from his friend since Bingley's arrival, trying desperately to see what his wife was apparently all too aware of: whether his friend appeared to show any particularity towards Georgiana. He was so intent in his focus that when the sound of his own name on Elizabeth's lips startled him to consciousness he realised he had missed her words, and bid her repeat them, hastily rearranging his features into something less like a frown.

"I was just informing Mr Bingley of your personal enthusiasm for the assembly," his wife said, with a teasing smile. Bingley laughed and continued on with his meal, and when even Georgiana joined in the merriment, Darcy was forced to accede the point with a grimace.

"Alas, it appears marriage has not excused me from social engagements, however much I might wish it."

"And yet how much more pleasant to attend already knowing whom you might dance with!" Mr Bingley said. "For half of your problem was always the need of making small talk with strangers, and now you need not attempt it!"

"True," Darcy conceded.

"Do you plan to attend as well, Miss Darcy?" Bingley asked, turning to Georgiana in an attempt to draw her into the conversation. It had not escaped Darcy's notice that his sister had fallen unusually silent when they took their places at the table, and he felt a strange flicker of feeling that Charles had noticed it too, and sought, in his own easy way, to ease her discomfort.

"It is such a long time since I went to any such gathering," she demurred, glancing briefly at Darcy. Her eyes asked a tentative question that Darcy might have missed, had he not been paying such close attention to her, and he nodded, very slightly, encouraging her to continue.

"I think in this case I should like to, provided you will be there." As if fearing she had been too forward in addressing her comment to Mr Bingley, she turned to Elizabeth and clarified her words. "All of you, I mean. I will find the whole event rather enjoyable if I might attend it surrounded by friends and family."

"Well, then, of course, we shall all go!" Bingley said, gallantly laying down his fork. "If only to afford you the opportunity. I am quite sure you will be fighting off invitations to dance, and we shall all stand to the side, watching mournfully as you eclipse us in popularity and interest!"

He laughed as he spoke, and the ladies joined him, but Darcy found his mouth dry. What Charles said was right, of course, and it was something he had never much thought about before. Georgiana was amiable and pretty, and her family connections would make her a promising target for many an eager suitor. He had been blindsided by the Wickham affair, but surely there would be more gentlemen in Georgiana's future, and he could hardly keep her sealed at Pemberley to avoid it. The inclination was there, of course, to keep her squirrelled away and safe, but as he watched his sister brighten in conversation with those she considered friends, he realised his error. Georgiana was not _him._ Fitzwilliam Darcy might flourish in relative solitude, and attend social gatherings only on sufferance, but Georgiana was much more like his wife. She needed the energy of social interaction, and here, even with a paid companion by her side, she had wanted for friendship. She had been lonely. And she had been lonely for some time before. Was it any wonder she had proved easy prey for a scoundrel?

Elizabeth tapped her foot against his, and he looked up on reflex to find his wife regarding him carefully. _Is something the matter?_ her gaze asked. _Do you not approve?_ She angled her head almost imperceptibly to where Charles and Georgiana were discussing the people likely to be in attendance at the assembly.

"…you shall recognise Robert MacArthur straight away, for his hair is the colour of rust and you'll not be able to understand above three words for every twelve he utters!"

"He is a Scotsman?"

"Yes, and a very proud one!" Charles roared with laughter. "I warn you not to engage him in conversation on our shared history, for he holds rather a different view than we do, and will not shy away from telling you so!"

Suitably warned, Georgiana nodded.

"I will do my best to avoid all but polite conversation with him."

"And I shall endeavour to rescue you if he does seek to corner you, Georgiana. No young lady should have to endure his stories alone!"

The slightest smile played about Darcy's lips as he watched this exchange, seeing for the first time what his wife had claimed to be self-evident. Georgiana sparkled, there was no other word for it. She was not anxious or withdrawn, the way she had had a tendency to be after knowing Wickham - indeed she had been entirely not herself even before that connection was discovered, which change Darcy placed firmly at Wickham's feet. To see her now the Georgiana he remembered from years past was a relief. And yet she was not merely the Georgiana she had been, she was an entirely new version of herself. Braver, somehow, and happier. She laughed freely and often, a sound that he had almost forgotten hearing.

He turned back towards Elizabeth, his own smile growing. Reaching his hand across the corner of the table, he took hers and squeezed once, gently.

 _Nothing is the matter, dearest,_ the gesture said. _Nothing is the matter at all._


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N - sorry for the delay in updating but I hope you all enjoyed the Easter weekend, however you celebrate! I am going away for a few days so there won't be any more updates to this story until FRIDAY at the earliest - I'm so sorry, but hope a bonus chapter today will help with the wait ;)_

 _ _Thank you so much for reading and commenting - I hope you are enjoying the story! xx__

* * *

The evening had been a quiet one, not unlike those she had spent at Lattimer Place, but altogether more pleasant. Georgiana found she was enjoying spending time with her family and Mr Bingley without the addition of his sisters, although she felt guilty for acknowledging these feelings and repented of them immediately. Yet there was no denying it was pleasant to converse with her friends without the constant one-upmanship and back-biting that seemed to accompany Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst. There was no Mr Hurst, either, to make her nervous with his abrupt parleys into the conversation, which always increased in fervour and volume as the evening wore on.

Bid by her friends to play the piano for them, she happily did so, selecting pieces she knew to be favourites of Mr Bingley and was gratified to see him smile with recognition with each new piece that began. Fearing after a while that her favouritism had been too blatant, for she deduced an occasional glance shared between her brother and Elizabeth and felt an anxious dread that she understood their meaning, though they were careful to obscure it from their guest, she changed course, selecting next a piece that was her brother's particular favourite. She was pleased to see the peace that settled over his face as the familiar melody began, and felt a flash of sympathy for her brother. Their relationship had been fractured but was gradually repairing itself. She had spent so long feeling somewhat angry at him, or blaming either him or herself for what had separated them, that now she wished very much to forget it had ever happened, and go on as they always had. Strangely, it seemed to her now that they might manage it, and she had Elizabeth Bennet to thank for it.

Recalling her new sister, she ended the piece, and stood, blushing at the enthusiastic applause that greeted her from at least one gentleman, and turned shyly to Elizabeth.

"I do not wish to monopolize the piano, Lizzy. Perhaps you will play for us?"

This brought a muffled laugh from William, who earned a look from his wife and tried to appear chastened, failing miserably to disguise his laughter as a cough. Georgiana watched this little performance with surprise and amusement. She had not thought it possible to ever see her brother so at ease with another person as to indulge in such banter, and yet here he was quite content with his wife by his side and his friend close by. She felt a rush of warmth for her family and sent a silent prayer skywards for bringing Elizabeth Bennet into her brother's life. How could she ever have suspected anything other than affection existing between the two people sitting before her? It was evident they valued each other greatly, seeing within one another the sort of kinship of opinion and feeling that occurs so rarely as to be almost unimaginable. Georgiana's heart dipped. What she would not give for such a connection of her own. She had thought she had felt it, once, with George Wickham, but that entire affair had been a lie, built on Wickham's own nefarious plans, or at least so her brother would have her believe. Georgiana had nursed a similar anger upon hearing of George's marriage to Anne, but lately, she had felt her bitterness subside, overtaken by her growing affections for someone else.

She glanced at Charles Bingley on reflex, meeting his eyes and looking away again almost immediately.

"Well, anyway, I believe I have played enough for one evening," she said, shyly crossing the room to join her friends by the fire.

"I suppose I ought to make a move for home!" Charles said, stifling a yawn that made him seem younger than his years. "My sisters will miss me -" he chuckled. "Well, that is hardly true: I expect them still to be visiting their friends, for they are friends of Mr Hurst's and never seek to end their evenings early. But nonetheless I do not wish to outstay my welcome, or Mrs Darcy will not permit me to return!"

Elizabeth laughed at this bald comment.

"Nonsense! How can I keep you away?" Her eyes flashed, and Georgiana felt a sense of foreboding that her new sister was about to speak of what she suspected. "You are my husband's close friend and I owe you a debt of gratitude too, for your assistance most recently. I can hardly object to your coming and making a four on occasion." She smiled, and Georgiana felt a wave of relief. There, that was a perfectly natural invitation and no mention of her whatsoever.

"Well, I do not suppose I shall see you again until the assembly." Charles stood, glancing at each of his friends in turn. "I do hope, all teasing aside, that you shall all attend?" His eyes rested on Georgiana's and he grinned. "You must not leave me to face the hordes alone!"

"As if we would dream of doing such a thing!" Elizabeth said. "Besides, both Georgiana and I would like to dance at least once with a gentleman who _wishes_ to dance." She shot an arch look at her husband, who bore the censure with grace.

Their goodbyes said, Georgiana sat another quarter hour with her brother and sister-in-law, eager to enjoy their felicity and not quite willing to think a pleasant evening over quite yet.

"You have made quite an impression on dear Mr Bingley, Georgiana!" Elizabeth remarked.

Georgiana froze, wondering what lay behind such a comment, but when she looked at Lizzy, her friend's face was warm with a smile and Georgiana was forced to acknowledge that she spoke genuinely, without the guile that might have accompanied such a statement from Miss Bingley or Mrs Hurst.

"We have known each other a long time," Georgiana demurred.

"I wager he appreciates you more now, as a young lady in your own right, rather than merely sister to his friend. What say you, dear?" Elizabeth asked, turning to inquire of her husband.

Georgiana did not dare to look at her brother, sure he would read the truth of her own feelings in her features, and fearing what his reaction might be. He had been so opposed to her affection for George Wickham, she could not bear if he stood in opposition to Mr Bingley. _Not that the circumstances compare!_ she thought. She dared not presume Mr Bingley to think of her as anything other than a friend, if that, even. Surely Lizzy was mistaken, and he was kind to her only on account of her relationship to William, and because of his genuine good nature.

"Charles makes friends everywhere he goes," William muttered, seeking to change the subject almost immediately.

"Well, ladies, it draws late. I will not bid you stay up on my account. I think I will retire to my study if you will not be offended by my leaving."

"Not at all," Georgiana said, at last daring to meet her brother's gaze and smile. She was gratified to see him return it and felt, at last, that the past was behind them. They were reconciled, fully so, and nothing would seek to part them again.


	15. Chapter 15

Mary shifted her weight from one foot to another, before taking her courage in her hands and knocking firmly on the door to Jane's room.

"Come in!" Her sister's voice sounded brightly from within, and Mary took that to be a good sign. She had feared, upon hearing Jane was confined to her room, that her sister was unwell, or unhappy, so she was relieved, upon entering, to see Jane sitting by the window, making the most of the pale winter light and attending to her sewing.

"Mary!" Jane said happily, setting down her embroidery and beckoning her sister to join her. "How lovely! I was just thinking of you."

"I hope I am not disturbing you?" Mary thought, feeling for a moment the way she had in times past, a little in awe of her pretty elder sister and half-fearing to be sent away if she dared to bother her. Mary blinked. That had been true for her but a few months previously. How suddenly and how completely her circumstances had changed! Just this morning she had bid her husband farewell as he set forth to make final arrangements to secure their very own home, and she had realised that they would be leaving Longbourn in just a day or two more. If she wished to speak to her sister before they left, there was no time like the present.

Jane shook her head, dismissing Mary's concerns.

"Of course you are not disturbing me! How could you?"

Cheered by her sister's words, Mary stepped forth confidently and seated herself on the edge of the bed, close to Jane. She peered over at her embroidery, smiling admiringly at her sister's handiwork.

"What are you working on?"

"Handkerchiefs." Jane swept the thin scrap of fabric aside, her cheeks reddening with her explanation. "It is a foolish trifle, I don't doubt, but I wished to make something for Thomas - for Mr Heatherington. I decided upon embroidering him some handkerchiefs, although I dare say it is not the most masculine gift!"

"I think it a charming idea," Mary said, encouragingly. "I only wish I had your skill and I should think of doing the same." She grimaced. "Although I do not doubt my husband should hardly manage to keep them more than a day. He can be careless about particulars of appearance." Her grimace became a smile. "Frankly, I think he misses being in his uniform, without civilian modes of dress and fashion to worry about!"

"Yes, Colonel Fitzwilliam is no clothes-horse, is he?" Jane said, with a smile. "And we like him all the better for it. Is he not with you today?"

Mary shook her head.

"He has gone to make final arrangements regarding our house." She could barely keep a smile from growing on her face. "We intend to move there soon, and so I seized my opportunity to speak to you now, as I do not know when next we will have a chance."

"Oh, but you are not moving so very far away!" Jane said, brightly. "And I shall be leaving Longbourn myself in but a week or two more."

Mary watched her carefully at this comment but could trace nothing but excitement in her sister's features. Joy, even.

"You are happy, then?" she ventured. "To be marrying Mr Heatherington?"

"I should hope so!" Jane replied, looking askance. "Otherwise I shouldn't marry him at all!"

Mary frowned.

"It just seems very sudden, and with Mr Bingley gone, and Elizabeth and I married, we worried…"

"You"? Jane frowned. "You and Lizzy have been discussing me, I see. Tell me, have the letters flying up and down the country detailed your sympathy at my plight? Poor Jane, forgotten at home. Poor Jane, destined to be a spinster. Poor Jane, accepting a stranger because she must, not because she wishes to."

Her words rushed out so quickly that Mary was taken aback. Her usually sanguine sister rarely came across to irritable and Mary wondered what had come over her. She stood, fearing she had offended Jane and the two sisters would now be forced to part on less than good terms.

"Oh, Mary, sit down, do!" Jane said, her voice tremulous but her own once more. "I ought not to have snapped at you, I am sorry!"

Mary did as she was bid, but said nothing, sensing that silence would be more encouraging to Jane to continue than any words of her own. After a breath, Jane spoke again, proving Mary right.

"I am sorry," she repeated. "I know that is not true, really. It's just that I am a little anxious about Lizzy's opinion of my marrying Mr Heatherington when I rather think she was determined to reunite me with Mr Bingley. I did not wish to disappoint her, but…" She shook her head. "I think this choice much the better! Mr Heatherington prefers a quiet life, after all, he has experienced much and suffered greatly in the war. He does not like to often be amid society, and you know I have never much enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the _ton_. How long do you think so amiable a gentleman as Mr Bingley would be content in the countryside before feeling the pull back to London again?" Jane made a face. "How dull I should find the endless stream of parties."

"I did not think Mr Bingley so very opposed to life in Hertfordshire," Mary began carefully.

"And yet he fled almost as soon as he had arrived!" Jane shook her head. "And I know Lizzy was angry about his toying with me, but I think she placed rather too much importance on our connection." Jane sighed. "In truth, nothing had been discussed, and although he was very friendly and quite charming, I rather think that he acts that way without meaning to. That is, he cannot help but be friendly and most young ladies would realise there was no intent behind it. It was my error, and not his, in assuming our friendship more than it was."

"But -" Mary opened her mouth to explain that it was Miss Bingley and not her brother whose intentions determined to separate the couple, but Jane shook her head, denying her the chance to speak.

"You have met Mr Heatherington, Mary. I know he is a little older than Mr Bingley but in truth, I like that about him. He has a calm nature and is not so easily uprooted or excited. And his stories!" Her eyes shone. "Do you know, Mary, he has travelled ever such a lot, and in his war work had such incredible adventures. I love to hear him talk about the different countries he has been to, and the people he met. He speaks several languages, you know, and is teaching me Spanish, to accompany my French, which he laments over. For I read it well, you know, I always did, but my accent is poor. I hope to improve it when we are married, and he has promised that one day we might travel as far as Brittany. Can you imagine?"

Mary's eyes widened. She could not. Jane seemed perfectly at ease with the future her marriage promised her.

"You are happy," she said, surprised to acknowledge the fact.

"I am very happy." Jane beamed. "You need not worry, Mary. I am not making this decision with anybody else's future in mind but my own. Your marriage and Lizzy's did much to secure a future for Mama and the girls if it comes to it. And do you not see how Mama has ceased mentioning Longbourn's passing out of our possession when Father dies? I know she entertained the idea of one of us girls marrying Mr Collins, but having met him I think she rather rejoices in the matches we have made of our own accord."

"And how is Mr Collins?" Mary asked, recalling their father's cousin at length.

"Still seeking a wife, by all accounts." Jane's eyes danced with humour. "Although he has not hurried to return to Longbourn. I think, in fact, he seeks to distance himself from us and play down the link between our families, for the name _Bennet_ has not found favour with Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and you recall how dearly he cherishes her opinion." Jane's head tilted. "She was fond of you though, was not she?"

Mary nodded.

"I think Richard intends on our visiting her, although he has not determined upon a date. She is very upset to hear of Anne's marriage to Mr Wickham."

"Poor Lady Catherine," Jane said, sympathy dimming her happiness but not her beauty. "It is so sad when families are rent asunder by circumstance."

"Indeed," Mary said, sensing her opportunity for a word that might reunite her two sisters, and put any awkwardness aside. "I feel as much for you and Lizzy. You must write to her, Jane, and tell her everything you told me. I am sure she feels so out of the way in Derbyshire, and will long to know you are happy from your own pen."

Jane said nothing for a moment, affecting to fuss with her embroidery.

"You are right, I know you are," she said, at last. "Do you think Lizzy minds it, my marrying another?"

"She wants only to be sure that you are happy," Mary said, with certainty. "And how can she be sure, unless she hears it from your own lips?"


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N - So sorry for the delay in posting - but hoping to up my progress and get the entirety of this story posted by week's end. Hopefully!_

 _Enjoy this new chapter xx_

* * *

Colonel Fitzwilliam strode confidently down the road that led to Meryton, feeling pleased with his progress so far. He had made all the arrangements he needed to concerning the house that he and Mary would occupy, and had done so in far shorter a time than he had expected, leaving the rest of the morning open for him to pursue entirely as he wished. That meant turning his mind to a mystery. He still could not quite let go of his suspicions regarding Mr Heatherington, and the matter had plagued him the previous evening, as he lay awake and considered what steps he could take to ensure his sister-in-law was not about to be deceived in the same way his cousin had been. The fellow seemed amiable and charming, but had not Wickham the ability to appear entirely thus when it served his purposes?

At some ungodly hour that morning, the solution had revealed itself to him. He would slip along to Meryton and enquire of Colonel Forster, and whoever else he could find at the regiment who might know of a _Heatherington_ , what rank and position he held, whatever rumours circulated about him. He might achieve it easily that morning, once he had concluded his business at the house. And he need not tell Mary a word until he had discovered some truth or fact to back up what he learned. He need not tell her at all unless the information he uncovered required some action on his part. He drew his lips together with a grim smile. He did not relish the thought of more intervention on behalf of another young couple, but he certainly was not about to stand idly by and allow Mary's sister to be misled if indeed she was. Heatherington might be all he claimed, and Richard hoped that was the case. He wished to blame his suspicions entirely on an overactive imagination, wrought pessimistic by his cousin's plight. But he could not negate his fears by mere force of will, he needed information. He hurried along with energy towards the barracks, pleased to see one or two faces he recognised, and passing a warm good morning to each of them as they went about their duties.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam!" Colonel Gray, not Forster this time, but that suited Fitzwilliam all the better for he much preferred the former, greeted him with a handshake. "What brings you here? Last I heard you were for Kent. Place to dull for you, eh? Looking for some occupation now that you're married and have a young wife buzzing about you requiring attention every hour of the day?"

Fitzwilliam's smile was a brittle one: he did not appreciate the suggestion that time spent with Mary was anything other than enjoyable. Yet he acknowledged his colleague's superiority of age and rank, and said nothing, deferring to his experience.

"Something like that," he said, shrugging off the unspoken inquiry into his marital contentment and turning instead to his reason for visiting. "I actually came pursuing some inquiries into a fellow who I have recently become a little acquainted with, a gentleman by the name of Heatherington."

Colonel Gray looked blank.

"You recognise the name?"

"Can't own that I do." The older man frowned. "And I wonder why you've come to me to ask it! You know life in the regiment, Fitzwilliam! Once a man moves up the ranks there's little enough time to indulge in speculation and gossip. A fellow is too busy trying to keep his recruits in line than to be worried about the chatter of the townsfolk."

"This gentleman has some association with the regiment," Richard said. "Or, with the military at least. I am trying to trace his records, to do a little digging on his past." This last was rushed out in little more than a murmur, for he did not wish to be thought of as a gossip, but the matter was important to him and he would not be dissuaded from doing all he could to investigate.

"Friend of yours, is he?" Colonel Gray asked, his pale eyes fixed on Richards's.

"Potentially." He dropped his gaze, realising that the truth would win him more sway than evasiveness. "He is pledged to marry a sister of my wife's, and as they have no brothers…"

"Of course, of course," Colonel Gray blustered. "Say no more. We must do all we can to protect those who come under our care. No harm in due diligence!" He laughed and Richard felt a wave of relief that his motives had not been misunderstood. "Now what did you say the fellow's name was?"

"Heatherington."

Colonel Gray squinted as if recalling an imaginary roster. "Can't say I recognise it, but my mind is not as sharp as it once was. You need to know straight away?"

Richard shook his head, reluctantly acknowledging that he could wait for news if he must. Indeed, he was in no hurry to break the news to Jane Bennet hat her beloved was anything other than all he claimed.

"Write to me at Longbourn, if you will." He glanced up at the sound of another friend calling to him. "Even if I'm settled elsewhere it's your best chance of finding me the next few days." He paused. "And Frank -"

"Silence a la mort!" The old man's eyes twinkled. "Your young wife will not hear of your subterfuge from me. Now, come along indoors for a moment or two, I have a rather fine bottle of scotch that's aching to be shared with someone who might appreciate it…"


	17. Chapter 17

"There!" Elizabeth pinned one last curl in place with a flourish and clapped her hands. "Open your eyes and tell me your thoughts!"

Georgiana's eyes obediently flew open and she peered into the glass, momentarily taken aback by her reflection. She was the same fair-haired, blue eye Georgiana she had always been, but she looked different somehow. Their maids had been dismissed as soon as they were dressed, allowing she and Elizabeth to make final touches alone, and Lizzy had been more than happy to attend to the task of Georgiana's hair, styling it in the way that she had particularly admired when they first became acquainted. For Georgiana it had been enjoyable to take this time together to prink and preen in front of the looking-glass, to talk over their day and discuss their hopes for the evening. It had been…like having a sister! Georgiana blinked, rapidly, fearing her momentary joy would flood over and spoil things. Elizabeth, noticing the reaction, misunderstood its meaning.

"Oh no, what is the matter?" she cried, bending down to meet Georgiana's gaze. "Do you not like it? Here, we have time yet, we may try again…"

"No!" Georgiana stood, waving away Lizzy's attention with a smile. "It is perfect. I was just - I _am_ just…" she shook her head, unable to find the words. "Thank you."

"There's no need of thanks! You gave me something to do." Elizabeth laughed. "One benefit, if one can call it that, of being one amongst five sisters, is that I have developed the ability to ready myself quickly for any event." She winked. "And one benefit of being recently _married_ is that nobody will very much care what I look like this evening. You, on the other hand!" Impulsively, she threw her arms around Georgiana, and the younger girl leaned into the embrace, breathing deeply and relishing the friendly affection she had so often longed for and so rarely felt in her short life.

"Lizzy," Georgiana asked, trying the pet-name that still felt new on her lips. "Do you think I may - may I ask your opinion on something?"

"Of course!" Elizabeth laughed again, and Georgiana thought how musical the sound was, in a house so formerly filled with quiet. Her brother was not prone to humour, although she sensed a change in him of late, and their exchanges were more often reserved or formal. Laughter was a new, but not unwelcome, addition to the halls of Pemberley.

"I wondered how it was…how it was that you knew of my brother's affection for you," she stammered, feeling her cheeks flame with heat and embarrassment at such a question. "I know I oughtn't to ask, but you see, I have been so much alone, and so long without a mother or a sister or a friend…" she trailed off, suddenly feeling how alone she had been for much of her life, how lacking in guidance. _No wonder it took just a few sweet words from the lips of a gentleman to turn my head!_ she thought, rueing her foolishness. If she had had a friend like Elizabeth to confide in, would she have been so easily deceived? She shook her head, shoving the thought aside. It was a pointless waste of energy, for the past could not be changed.

Elizabeth appeared to be giving deep consideration to her answer, pausing to weigh her words before speaking.

"I did not know it at first!" she declared, at last. "In fact, I was quite convinced of the opposite, certain he did not like me in the least!"

She told of the first time she and Georgiana's brother had met, at an assembly in the small town of Meryton.

"Like tonight?" Georgiana queried.

"I expect so! Of course, Meryton being close to my home, it was an evening filled with the same faces I had seen upon such evenings season after season. Rumours flew that there was a party newly arrived, and indeed we soon saw them to be true, for there was Mr Bingley and his sisters, and Mr Darcy." Elizabeth paused, her eyes sparkling with fun. "Of course, everyone was immediately enamoured with Mr Bingley, for he possesses such a skill in making people love him almost before they know him. But Mr Darcy…" She smiled, nudging Georgiana with her elbow. "Well, he is your brother! I am sure you do not need me to tell you that whatever his virtues, and I now see them to be many, he lacks the skill of winning people's good opinion to him at first." Her lips quirked in a smile. "That, combined with a particularly unflattering comment about _me_ had me quite turned against him. But I came to know him better, and now I am glad I was willing and able to change my first opinion, for I see it to be quite wrong."

Georgiana smiled, pleased with this story, which was rather more detailed and somewhat different from the one her brother had told in his letters.

"Why do you ask?" Elizabeth's voice was light, but Georgiana determined that was not without effort. When she glanced back at her friend, she saw Lizzy's eyes fixed on a distant point of the room, and she was affecting to pay little attention to Georgiana's reaction to her question.

"I was just curious," Georgiana said, with a dismissive smile. "My brother never said as much, and you know gentlemen do not make descriptive correspondents. Come, if you are ready shall we go down together? I expect we must make haste to leave if we wish to get to Newton in good time!"


	18. Chapter 18

Charles Bingley's entry to the assembly rooms at Newton could not help but remind him of Meryton some months previously. He had been accompanied by his sisters and brother-in-law then, too, but with Darcy to temper his enthusiasm. A grim smile crept onto his features. He well remembered his friend's dreary assessment of the evening before them, and how his words had had no effect on Charles' sunny mood. _We are here to meet people, Darcy, and get acquainted with our new neighbours. Can_ _'t you at least attempt a smile, or are you determined to scare everyone away with that scowl of yours, like some sort of bulldog?_

His joke had fallen on deaf ears and Darcy's scowl had remained very firmly in place. This evening, though, Charles missed his friend's company. He was pleased to think that he need not enter a room filled with strangers, knowing only those few people that made up his party. This time he would have friends to greet, and he looked forward to being reunited with Darcy, Elizabeth and Georgiana. Mr and Mrs Wickham, too, had intended to come, although they would travel separately from the Darcys. It would be their first formal outing since arriving in Derbyshire, and he knew Darcy was anxious on his cousin's behalf, although he would not own as much, and merely mentioned their intention to attend in passing, as if such a thing were scarcely worthy of note. Charles had found his own gaze straying to Georgiana when the name _Wickham_ was mentioned as if to reassure himself that his young friend was not unduly upset at the prospect of being once more in company with the couple. Georgiana appeared unfazed though, and this pleased Charles. He did not like to think of her being upset, by anything, and felt sure he would himself bar George Wickham's entrance if it would ensure Georgiana's evening remained a happy one. As it was he had promised to dance the very first dance with her, and eagerly craned his neck around the crowds to see if he might distinguish the party from Pemberley.

"Who are you looking for?" Caroline asked, irritably. She had been rather less enamoured with the promise of an assembly at Newton than she had by the Meryton assembly, too, which fact Charles put down to the fact that his sister was quite often bad-tempered of late. She would not confide in him what was the matter, indeed whenever he attempted to broach the subject with her, fearing as any good brother might that his sister was truly unhappy and wishing to know of any service he might undertake to please her, she snapped at him.

"Our friends, Caro," he murmured, with a weary smile. "Recall, we promised to meet Mr and Mrs Darcy and Georgiana."

" _You_ promised," Caroline sniffed. She turned away, her attention attracted by an older couple to their left. "Sir William! Lady Mary, good evening. How are you?"

With Caroline suitably distracted and Mr and Mrs Hurst talking companionably to their own neighbours, Charles felt free to slip away and seek out his own company. He had not walked thirty paces before he heard Elizabeth Darcy's bright laugh and discovered his friends brightening one corner of the room.

"Mr Bingley!" Elizabeth said, welcoming him into their circle. "We were hoping we might chance to see you. Do you come alone? Where is the rest of your party?"

"Otherwise engaged," he said, with a wink. "And yet that serves us tolerably. Evening, Darcy. And Miss Georgiana, how well you look!" This compliment was offered easily enough, but in giving it, Charles paused long enough to notice that indeed Miss Georgiana Darcy did look very well indeed. There was something different about her that evening, but he could not immediately discern it and did not wish to be thought to stare, so turned to his friend almost straight away. " _Plus ca change_ , Darcy, eh?" He grinned. "Can you believe how much has happened since we attended the Meryton Assembly, on a night not at all unlike this?"

"I cannot," Darcy said, drily.

"Well, I am certainly glad it has." Elizabeth smiled up at her husband. "To think, I once vowed I should never speak to you again and now look at us!"

Darcy pulled a face, and earned a jab in the side, forcing him to offer a penitent smile to his bride. Charles laughed at this tableau and turned to Georgiana.

"Can you believe, Miss Georgiana, that without my intervention this pair might not even have met, to begin with?"

"Yes, and I'll thank you to keep your interventions to yourself in future," Darcy growled. "I might have managed the situation far better _without_ your sticking your oar in."

"I'm sure!" Elizabeth said, with a sanguine smile. "Oh, hark! The music is starting, and you did promise me one dance. Come, dear. Georgiana, do you mind?"

"She oughtn't," Charles put in. "For I'm to do my friendly duty and offer the same. Come along, Georgie. We'll manage well enough to put this old married couple to shame, shall we not?"

Georgiana beamed, and Charles found his own smile widening to see her happily take his hand as the two couples joined the rest beginning the lively dance.

"I hope you do not mind dancing with me first," he said once he and Georgiana were afforded a moment to speak. "I am sure you will have no shortage of offers going forwards and wished to be sure I was not forgotten in the rush!"

"I could never forget you, Mr Bingley!" Georgiana said, her voice strangely serious. They were forced to part, then, and when Charles looked at her again she was smiling, and he was sure that he had mistaken her in a joke.

"I am sure you are just waiting long enough to be polite, and for that my pride thanks you," he said, smiling back at her. The music swept them both along, and they found little opportunity to speak again for some moments. Charles enjoyed dancing and he was good at it, and Georgina made for an elegant, accomplished partner. He was not sure why he had never before noticed how graceful her movements were, or the way her forehead creased in concentration as she focused on the steps. It was her smile he most sought, though, and even when they were forced apart by the steps of the dance he found himself seeking her face with his eyes, watching for the chance for their gazes to meet, and then smiling so that she might return it, or on one occasion pulling a face and being gratified to see her laugh. It was a jolly turn and all too soon the music ended, and it was not without disappointment he bowed to her.

"Well, there we are, I shall release you from your promise. You need not dance with me again this evening unless you wish to?" His voice rose slightly at the end of the sentence, a question he could not quite prevent himself from asking, and feeling a strange glimmer of hope beat in his chest.

"I wish to," Georgiana whispered, breathlessly. She smiled, shyly, and nodded. "I wish to, very much."


	19. Chapter 19

"Do not they look well together?" Elizabeth asked, leaning across the small card table she shared with her husband.

Darcy grunted something in agreement, his fingers tapping lightly on the polished surface.

"Who?"

"Do not say _who_ to me as if you have no idea that I am speaking of your sister and Mr Bingley," Elizabeth said, under her breath. "I have noticed your eyes barely straying from them all evening."

"Not true," he countered, turning his head so that he might regard her directly. "I have scarcely been able to tear my eyes away from _you_ , my love."

"Ably done," she said, smiling in acknowledgement of this affectionate compliment. "But when you _have_ managed to look away from me, it is Charles Bingley and your sister that you have sought."

"Oughtn't I to strive to ensure my friends are enjoying themselves?" he asked, but he could hear the tiniest note of petulance creeping into his voice and coughed in an attempt to cover it. "I already promised I would allow Wickham and Anne to enjoy the evening without interference, must I ignore every single person here I do know as well?"

"Certainly not!" Elizabeth said, with a laugh. "And dear me, aren't you bad-tempered at being caught spying?"

Darcy opened his mouth to protest that what he was doing certainly did not amount to _spying_ when he saw the light dancing in his wife's eyes and realised that yet again she was teasing him. He dropped his head in surrender, a resigned smile resting faintly upon his lips.

"If I happened to glance in their direction once or twice it is merely to ensure that Georgiana is happy." Darcy nodded darkly towards another couple, lifting his features in a vague smile as Wickham happened to choose that moment to meet his gaze and greet him with a lift of his eyebrows. "And with certain other friends of ours present here tonight, can you blame me?"

"Not at all," Elizabeth said, leaning closer to him. "But I believe Mr Bingley more than capable of ensuring Georgiana is enjoying herself and scarcely even notices Mr and Mrs Wickham's presence." She sighed, happily. "In fact, I am of the opinion that Georgiana is so much enjoying herself she forgets that we are here too. It is good to see her so cheerful, is not it?"

This could not be argued with, and Darcy's smile became genuine as he regarded his sister so carefree and happy. It had been a long time since he had seen her so, and he felt a burden he had not been entirely aware of shouldering slip away.

"I did not picture them together."

"Why would you?" Elizabeth said. "Although I am sure you will confess your friend will find a much preferable match in your own sister than in mine."

Darcy's eyes raised so quickly, and he turned to refute her so roundly that she laughed.

"You need not worry on my account. It seems even my sister would agree with that assessment, although I should never have imagined it." She shrugged her shoulders. "I felt sure that she and Mr Bingley were destined to be together. I am willing to concede I may have been mistaken." She arched an eyebrow, her eyes sparkling with fun. "Although I will thank you not to remind me of this admission in future. In Georgiana's case, I refuse to be dissuaded. They are well suited, and I shall do all I can to ensure that at least one couple's path towards love is a smooth one."

"Was not ours?" Darcy had whispered his question, but he did not need his wife's smile to know her answer. No, it had not been smooth from the start. There had been a number of obstacles to traverse: of their own making, in more than one case. And yet, now, it seemed to him as if they had forever been destined to end this way.

"It might have been smoother!" Elizabeth admitted. "Now come, I see you are getting wistful and melancholy in your reflections. I will not induce you to dance another just yet, but perhaps we might take a turn of the room and you could introduce me to others of our neighbours. Recall I am a stranger here and would dearly love to become acquainted with a few more people."

With a groan of resignation that was only partly for his wife's benefit, Darcy stood and found he enjoyed the task of introducing his new wife to his old acquaintances far more than he might have imagined. Elizabeth, for her part, made introductions easy, and he once again marvelled at her ability to quickly and easily converse with those she had only just met. She seemed to sense, too, when he began to tire of small-talk and improvised conversations, for she took his arm and with one squeeze suggested they dance, and save their conversation for later in the evening. This time, Darcy was delighted to showcase his pretty wife's nimble steps and found the ordeal of dancing far less an ordeal when one's partner was one's closest friend.

"You dance well!" Elizabeth remarked, as if the observation came as a surprise.

"Did you doubt me able?" he asked, mimicking disappointment.

"If I did it was because you acted so averse to the notion of dancing that I felt sure you despised it."

"And because I am proud, I must despise a thing merely because I lack talent." Darcy nodded. "I understand you well. I would care to remind you that on no occasion did I say I was not able to dance, merely that I preferred not to. Similarly conversation. I think even you will agree I am well able to speak on subjects I find interesting, and with people I consider friends."

Here Elizabeth nodded in acknowledgement and they danced in silence for a few steps before their movements brought them close enough in proximity to continue their conversation.

"You do realise, my dear husband, that now I am aware of your great skill as both dancer and conversationalist that you will have little excuse to avoid either when I am with you?"

Darcy smiled, feeling a flash of bright affection for Elizabeth and more content with the world than he had been in weeks.

"When you are with me, my dear wife, I have no desire to avoid either."


	20. Chapter 20

"And with that one move…I believe I have you surrounded!" Mr Bennet chuckled joyfully as he successfully swept the chess board of Colonel Fitzwilliam's remaining defences and positioned his own pieces so that there would be no escape.

Richard scarcely noticed the defeat, his mind was so thoroughly occupied with the note he had received that afternoon, the note that burned next to his chest, where he had stowed it for further perusal that night when he might discuss its contents privately with Mary and decide with her how best to proceed.

"Will you stay for another game?"

The question was enough to jolt Richard back into the present and he glanced up, meeting Mr Bennet's curious glance with a fleeting smile.

"You bested me again? I wonder where I have left my brains this evening."

"Clearly not on the battlefield," Mr Bennet snorted, rearranging the pieces in their starting positions. "Let us leave off for the day. I can see your heart is not in playing and if I am honest you are no good to me as an opponent if I can so easily win." He glanced shrewdly at Richard before speaking again. "Is something on your mind, Colonel?"

Richard sighed, grateful that it was Mr Bennet who asked, for he valued the older man's wisdom and intelligence the most out of his family, barring Mary's. He did not relish the anxiety he would cause his father-in-law in sharing his discovery, however, and found it remarkably difficult to induce his lips to form the words.

"I made some enquiries lately of the regiment stationed at Meryton."

"Oh?" Mr Bennet kept his attention on the chess-board, although Richard wagered he was giving ear closely to every word that the colonel uttered. "Are you seeking employment?"

"I?" Richard snorted. "No, thank you. I am quite content with my wife and my home, and need no further occupation."

"Good man. Then what?" Mr Benne sat back in his chair, forming a steeple with his fingers and fixing Richard with a curious glance.

"I enquired of Colonel Gray whether he was well acquainted with our new friend Mr Heatherington."

Mr Bennet's eyes narrowed.

"And?"

"He had never heard of the man." Richard's words rushed out, one after another, and once he began to confide in his father-in-law he found he could not stop. "Do not you think that strange? I charged him to discover what he could, and he returned to me empty-handed, with no word of any Heatherington from any of his colleagues."

Mr Bennet sniffed and turned back to the chess board.

"I do not think it all that unusual," he said. "Do you recall the name of every military man you came into contact with for the duration of your career? And perhaps his career was not so illustrious as yours has been. He does not keep his rank, after all. Perhaps his injury prevented him earning any accolades. Does that make him any less brave, or give us cause to dislike him?"

"Well, no -"

"Come, Colonel, let us play again. I fear for your brains: you are imagining conspiracies where they do not exist. Exercise them a little in beating me, and I assure you that you will no longer create reasons to fear for my daughter's future husband." He arched an eyebrow. "Or ought I concern myself with another daughter's husband?"

Richard frowned but sensed Mr Bennet's dry tone was teasing, and let the matter lie. He was right, surely, and Richard imagined disaster where there was none. It was one more thing to blame George Wickham for. Choosing to reflect on the matter no longer, Richard turned his attention towards their chess game, and this time his skills were equal to his father-in-law's, so that the tense game led, at last, to a draw, just in time for the pair to be summoned to dine.

"Look who had joined us, gentlemen! Mr Heatherington!"

Richard could scarcely resist exchanging a glance with Mr Bennet and saw his own surprise reflected in the older gentleman's wry smile.

"We did not expect you this evening," he said, shaking Mr Heatherington's hand.

"No, well, I was passing," Heatherington said, vaguely. He turned to Richard. "And I wished to speak to Colonel Fitzwilliam. What better excuse could I have to secure an invite to dine at Longbourn?" His smile did not quite reach his eyes, and Richard felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise. The man did not blink, but instead of causing Richard to look away first, he straightened and held his gaze. _You do not scare me, Heatherington, if that is your intent_ , he silently told the man. His suspicions, which had been all but put aside by Mr Bennet's sanguine dismissal, rose up once more, crowding in on Richard's mind, and he determined that he would discover the truth that very evening. His friends had found nothing, but he would discover more from questioning the gentleman himself.

"Is it a matter of urgency that we speak, Mr Heatherington, or can it wait until after we eat?" He smiled, humourlessly. "I have been engaged in a battle of the wits all afternoon over the chess board and am quite eager to replenish my energies before I succumb to any further demands."

"Demand? Nay, 'tis but a word I wish with you, Colonel. Surely you can spare me a moment." He turned a deferential smile upon Mrs Bennet. "Do, all of you, go in to eat, and we shall be along momentarily."

Mary hesitated after the rest of her family had left, lingering to assure herself that all was well, and it was not until Richard met her gaze and nodded, almost imperceptibly, that she obediently filed out after her family into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her. It had scarcely shut when Heatherington turned once more towards Richard, his eyes flashing and his voice dangerously low.

"So, Colonel Fitzwilliam. You have been making enquiries about me. Am I permitted to know your reason?"

Richard would not easily be cowed, nor would he apologise for his actions.

"I have a duty of care towards my sister's family."

Heatherington snorted.

"And what threat do I pose to them?"

"I knew not, and so it was my duty to inquire."

"And what did you discover?" Heatherington's voice took on an amused lilt that made Richard's blood boil angrily. The man was toying with him. Surely he knew that Richard had come up empty, and sought to mock him.

"You know I found nothing, surely you must, or you would not have sought to discuss the matter now. I am no fool, Heatherington, and these people are not fools. But they are trusting, more than I, and more than they ought. I'll not let you deceive them -"

"Who says I am deceiving them?"

"You say you got your injury in the war," Richard blurted. "Yet the regiment has never heard of you."

"You enquired of every regiment in England?"

"I enquired enough that a soldier by the name of Heatherington ought to have at least been heard of."

"Ah, but what if my rank was not a soldier?"

Richard was dumbfounded.

"You're hardly a sailor -"

"No." Heatherington smiled, but this time the danger receded, just a little. "You may guess once more, and then I suppose I will have to tell you."

Richard's mind was blank, and he felt angry heat pool in his cheeks. The man was toying with him, and yet Richard could no more fight back. Heatherington's secret would have to come from Heatherington's lips if he were to know it at all.

"I suppose in your own illustrious career in the regiment, Colonel Fitzwilliam, you never had a need to become acquainted with the notion of subversion. Perhaps I ought to give it a simpler name. You see before you, sir, a spy on behalf of His Majesty's military." His lips quirked. "A _former_ spy, in any case…"


	21. Chapter 21

The third Bennet sister's wedding came around quite quickly after that, or so it seemed to Mary. Richard had never intimated precisely what had passed between he and Mr Heatherington the evening of their meal at Longbourn, but any suspicions he still held of Jane's intended were so thoroughly put to rest that Mary found her own peace heightened. Indeed, it was so pleasant to walk into the small church on Richard's arm and to see Jane looking so radiantly happy that there could be no doubt in anybody's mind that the match was a merry one. The only lack, to Mary's mind, was in Elizabeth's not being there, but if Jane missed her sister she never remarked upon it, other than to react with a happy smile as a message was read _with affection, from Mr and Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy_. Mary had continued to correspond with Elizabeth and was pleased to hear tell that just as soundly as Jane had found affection with another, so too did Mr Bingley's wounds seem to be healing. Mary had not met Mr Darcy's sister, although she had been spoken of so often by Richard that it felt as if she knew her, and she could well imagine her making a happy match with Mr Bingley, and one that would please even Mr Darcy's exacting nature.

"Well, my love, it appears the merriment is winding down. Shall we make our way home?"

Mary agreed and the two bade their family and friends farewell, clambering into the small carriage they had quite recently acquired in addition to their pretty little estate: for Richard called it "little" although to Mary's mind it seemed quite expansive enough. Mr Bennet, too, approved of it, although his praise was nothing in comparison to his wife's, for Mrs Bennet could hardly be kept from reciting the acreage and contents of the home her middle daughter had secured. _"It may not be Pemberley, or even so grand an estate as Jane shall live in by and by, but for Mary to have done so well in her marriage is enough to render me quite contented!"_ It was as close to a compliment as she was likely to get, and Mary could admit to herself and Richard, once out of Mrs Bennet's hearing, that she liked their home all the better for it _not_ being either Elizabeth's or Jane's. _It is ours, all ours, and none could possibly compare to it on account of that!_ she had declared when first they settled there. Large enough to comfortably receive guests, the requisite invitations had been sent both to the south, inviting Lady Catherine, should she wish to leave Kent, to call upon them, and northwards to Derbyshire: an open invitation to Mr and Mrs Darcy to come any time they felt the desire to travel to Hertfordshire. An addendum had been included offering the same to Anne and Mr Wickham, at Mary's insistence, although Richard had grumbled throughout the composition of the short note, and written Wickham's name with such slap-dash attention that the true nature of his feelings towards the invitation must have been evident even from his handwriting.

Their first reply to these missives had been slow in coming but was patiently awaiting their return home from the wedding.

" _Colonel and Mrs Fitzwilliam_ , it read. _I am pleased to see you settled at last, although disappointed that you remain in so dreary a county as Hertfordshire. I trust that is on Mary_ _'s account, and in her desire to remain close to her family, an attitude I must applaud, however grudgingly I acknowledge its impact on your fortunes. Unfortunately, I must refuse your invitation to visit, for I have no desire to spend any time in Hertfordshire just at present. In fact, I am just about to undertake the long journey north, for I am to pay my respects on Mr and Mrs Darcy at Pemberley, and see Anne again…."_

"Good Lord!" Richard exclaimed, tempering his words only when Mary glanced over at him from her corner. "I mean –" he fumbled for an alternative, and found none, instead clearing his throat and reading aloud the words from his aunt that had so discombobulated him. _"I am to pay my respects towards Mr and Mrs Darcy at Pemberley, and see Anne again. I dare say you are surprised to see me write that name again after I swore I would no longer acknowledge my daughter after her foolish match. In truth, I spoke out of anger, and whilst I am still unhappy with the decision she has made, I come to realise that anger makes for a very cold companion. That they are married, and in their own home on the Pemberley estate gives me some comfort, for I always knew Mr and Mrs Darcy to be such generous, kind spirits as could not imagine casting out their own cousin into the gutter, no matter how intent she seemed upon making her home there. As for her husband I have done a little more research and believe him to be some distant relation to a Lord and Lady Limmington, on his mother's side, but you know I believe these connections to run deep. It would not surprise me at all if it was his noble blood that my Anne recognised, even if it is disguised in the body of a humble clerk…"_

Richard snorted, which gave way to a laugh, and Mary waited patiently for his amusement to subside before encouraging him to read on a little further.

"I am sorry, my dear, but really! Can you see Wickham descended from a Lord? It is a fabrication, surely!"

"If it soothes your aunt's conscience and enables her to see past Anne's folly it hardly signifies," Mary said, placidly. She smiled. "We cannot all of us be as forthright as you, husband."

"That is apparent!" Richard shook his head, marvelling at Lady Catherine's self-deception. He cleared his throat and continued with his reading, consciously or unconsciously raising his voice an octave to affect Lady Catherine's imperious tone, and Mary struggled to maintain her composure at this comical recitation.

" _I am eager to see how Mr and Mrs Darcy suit Pemberley. You recall I am sure, how surprised I was by their sudden decision to wed, and yet I feel certain that Mrs Darcy is more than capable of managing Pemberley well. She was such a spirited girl, and so like my own dear sister that I do not wonder at her securing Fitzwilliam's heart so completely."_

This caused Mary herself to take a sharp intake of breath, and Richard glanced up from the note to view his wife with sparkling eyes.

"She is adept at historical revision, is not she?" he murmured, glancing over the rest of the letter. "Herein lies a long list of the many stops she will make on her journey north, but alas, dear Mary, not a one will be in the vicinity of Hertfordshire and thus we will be spared the upheaval of a visit. "Perhaps upon my return," she states. "For I would dearly like to see Mary again…" He snorted, folded the letter and dropped it unceremoniously on the side-table next to him. "There's thanks for you. I have been her nephew all my life, but now that I have secured so amiable a wife I am all but forgotten." He smiled. "Mind you, I can hardly blame her. Given the option of us both, I am quite sure I would desire to see and speak only to you, also. Fix me another cup, would you, love?"

Mary reached for the teapot which had all but chilled, and poured another cup, passing it to her husband with a smile, and the picture of happy domesticity resumed. Mary could barely stop a happy smile from creeping up onto her face. She was so happy. So very happy.


	22. Chapter 22

"You are sure you do not mind my calling on you?" Anne Wickham asked, for what seemed to Elizabeth like the third time in the past quarter-hour.

"Of course not!" she insisted, with a laugh. "I only mind that it took you so long before doing so! I told Georgiana we ought to march over to the lodge ourselves and visit, but we did not wish to disturb you."

"Nor I you!" Anne laughed. "But where is Georgiana?"

"Out," Elizabeth said, mysteriously. Her eyes danced with fun as she recalled Georgiana's innocent suggestion that she might take a walk in the grounds that afternoon if Elizabeth would not object to being left alone. Lizzy had insisted she go, and waved a book as an excuse for her staying in. She knew, although she did not think Georgiana was aware that she knew, that Darcy was out walking in those particular grounds that very afternoon with Mr Bingley by his side, and Georgiana doubtlessly hoped to run across them quite by chance. Lizzy smiled to herself, not wishing for all the world to spoil Georgiana's romance, and hoping that her husband would be kind to the young couple.

"I sense there is some story behind her absence, Lizzy, for you are terrible at hiding intelligence when you have it!" Anne smiled. "But I shall not press you to reveal your secrets, so do not worry. I wish to know everything you have been up to of late. Tell me, how is William? And how are you enjoying life at Pemberley?"

"Very well!" Elizabeth said, taking Anne's arm as they walked along the corridor together, soon reaching Lizzy's library, where they intended to closet themselves away to take tea and talk without fear of being interrupted by the return of either the gentlemen or Georgiana. "Although I owe any success I may chance to make to your assistance when I first arrived. I would have been disaster upon disaster without your help!"

"Nonsense!" Anne dismissed her friend's laments. "You are too cruel to yourself. If I helped at all it was only to boost your confidence in the skills you already possessed but were not fully aware of." She glanced around the room, with a contented sigh. "It does me good to be here again."

"Are you not happy at the lodge?" Elizabeth asked, glancing quickly at Anne's face for some clue to her true feelings.

"Oh, indeed!" Anne said, quickly. "Very happy. But I am often there alone, for George works such long hours -" She hurried to explain. "I am proud of him, you know, for he is already rising through the ranks and his friends have been so kind to aid him in building his career." She blinked. "I include you and William in that, for it is not easy to turn one's life around, and yet I believe that is precisely what he is doing."

"He has done it if the stories I hear are to be believed," Lizzy said, loyally. "And he had the best motivation possible the love of his gentle wife. Believe me, Anne, I do not think he would have made half the progress he has without you there to inspire him."

"Well, regardless, he is succeeding and I am proud, but it takes him so often away from home and I confess I grow lonely there by myself!" Anne laughed. "It is such a silly thing to admit, I know, for I have spent much of my life alone, or with only Mama for company, and yet…"

"You are not alone!" Elizabeth insisted. "I mean, there are your servants of course," she knew Mr and Mrs Wickham's living was modest, but she knew even they not without staff to aid Anne in keeping the house. "And both Georgiana and I are only ever a few minutes away." Impulsively she lay a hand on Anne's arm. "You must come here whenever you feel lonely, Anne dear, and do not allow melancholy to settle over you."

"I am pleased to hear you say so," Anne said with a shy smile. "I did not wish to make a nuisance of myself!"

"As if you could ever be a nuisance, I -" There was a knock at the door, interrupting Lizzy's tirade, and with an apologetic glance at her friend, she stood, opening it to see a servant holding out two letters.

"For you, Mrs Darcy." A bow. "And one more for Mr Darcy. Will he wish to take it right away, do you think? I might send a runner, or will it suffice to wait until his return?"

"Leave it in his study, Jones," Lizzy said. "He will not be long, I am sure." Taking her own letter, she glanced at the familiar address and recognised Jane's handwriting. Her heart began to beat faster. She could barely conceal her smile, and when she laid the letter down and returned to her friend, her feelings must have shown on her face, for Anne questioned her.

"A letter from an admirer?" Her eyes danced with humour, as Elizabeth groaned at the joke.

"My sister," she explained. "Jane."

Anne's eyes danced with interest.

"She is recently married, is not she? Oh, open it, do! I long to hear all about their wedding." Having not had a particularly festive wedding day herself, Anne took a special interest in the notions and details of others'.

Obediently, Lizzy broke the seal and smoothed letter out, clearing her throat and reading, hesitating a little as her voice struggled to keep pace with her eyes in seeking to learn all of Jane's news at once.

" _My dearest Lizzy, I am sure you are surprised to receive a letter from me at last and can offer no satisfactory reason for my delay in writing. I would blame busyness or the difficulty of planning a wedding, but neither of these excuses was cause for you to cease from letters home and so I know you will not accept them from my own pen. I will resort, then, to honesty. I could not bring myself to write to you of my meeting Mr Heatherington - now_ my husband _\- for I feared you still pinned all your hopes on my reuniting with Mr Bingley and I did so loathe to dash them._

 _My husband - it still seems so strange to call him so, but it is his title now and I intend to make full use of it! - bid me write to you, for he could tell I mourned our separation. He suggests the following wonderful solution as a surprise to us both: we shall travel north and visit you, Lizzy, dear! Before the month is out! My husband - those words again, what a blessed title! - has business to attend to in York, and suggests we spend some time in the Lakes, as a celebration after our wedding. It seems possible that we will also stay close to Pemberley and thus wonder if, my dear sister, we might call upon you one day and I might introduce you to my husband - you shall think me teasing you now, but how else can I refer to him? - and he, you. Do, do write by return and say that we may, Lizzy, for I miss you so!_

Lizzy felt hot tears springing up in the corners of her eyes and was forced to stop reading before she had even reached Jane's account of her wedding which was, she could see, lacking in the rich detail that would please Anne best.

Fortunately, her friend seemed to discern Lizzy's feelings without her needing to explain and she clapped her hands.

"A visit from Jane! Oh, Lizzy, how wonderful it will be for you to have your sister here. Well, why do you delay? Look, here is your writing paper. Write at once and say she must come. I will wait patiently while you do, and not demand any more of you until the letter is sent."


	23. Chapter 23

The two gentlemen walked the grounds of Pemberley in near silence, and Darcy was sure that this had been the longest stretch they had ever spent in one another's company without one of them speaking. Charles was usually the first to speak, for long periods of silent were not unfamiliar nor unwanted for Darcy, but his friend was rarely able to keep his thoughts in his head and not on his lips for so long.

"Is something the matter, Charles?" Darcy asked when he could bear it no longer.

"Hmm?" His friend glanced up at him, his eyes widening a fraction as if he was surprised to find himself in company and not alone.

"You are very quiet." Darcy reiterated his comment. "Is the something wrong?"

"Wrong? No. Nothing wrong." Charles smiled but it was not the usual care-free grin that rested over his features. This attempt at a smile was painful, rather more like the grimaces Darcy wore, and served proof positive that something was indeed the matter with his friend, and it was up to Darcy to discover the problem, for Charles certainly did not seem able or willing to share it without invitation. Darcy frowned, wondering how best to proceed and wishing Elizabeth was with him, for his wife had a far better grasp on the nuances of human behaviour and would be better equipped than he to deduce the problem and offer a solution.

"How are your sisters?" Darcy asked, wondering if the problem were at Lattimer Place, and might thus explain Charles' regular presence at Pemberley.

"My…sisters?" Charles frowned. "They are well, I suppose." He shrugged his shoulders. "In truth, I have not seen them a great deal of late, for I have so often been - that is -" His cheeks burned, and Darcy began to feel he might sense what the matter with his friend was. Hiding his amusement in clearing his throat, he began again.

"I saw you admiring Georgiana's handiwork on the wall earlier," he began. "Tis all a mystery to me, this drawing, and Elizabeth despairs of it, yet Georgiana is quite nimble and works up some quite pretty pieces." He shrugged his shoulders. "At least I think them so. Perhaps I am biased in my opinion, as she is my sister."

"No, indeed!" Charles said, with a hearty nod. "I think her incredibly talented. Her drawing, and her music -" he paused. "She is a very accomplished young lady, Darcy, and - and an utter charm to be around to boot." He reached a hand up to rub his nose, and Darcy refrained from rolling his eyes skywards. Charles' true feelings were as plain as if he had them written in ink all over his face. _Was I ever like this?_ he wondered, striving to recall his own emotions when first he realised how he cared for Elizabeth. The affection had come upon him so gradually that it was quite well established before he truly became aware of it, and still more time passed before he acknowledged it, to himself or to anyone else. He credited himself with rather more control than Charles Bingley, however, and assured himself that he had hidden his feelings better.

"And how is - how is Miss Darcy?" Bingley asked, after a momentary lull in their conversation.

"As well as ever," Darcy replied, watching his friend out of the corner of his eye.

"Good. That is…good." Bingley drew in a long, low breath and Darcy, at last, took pity on him, unable to allow his friend to continue in this slow-witted manner.

"Charles, I cannot fail to have noticed your eagerness to visit us here at Pemberley, and often, and yet I wager it is not I nor my wife that you are particularly eager to visit." He paused, watching his friend's eyes sink to the ground, where he examined the grass before him as if it were an object of particular interest. "Elizabeth has her own opinion on the matter, but we are friends, Charles, I feel I may speak freely, and I would invite you to do the same. Do you…that is, might you…?" His courage failed him at the last, and he grasped for the words to finish his question.

"I confess we formed rather a friendship while Georgiana stayed at Lattimer Place, and now, with her gone, I realise how much I miss her." Bingley's voice was low, his features utterly morose. "I assure you, Darcy, I cannot begin to hope that she sees me as anything other than a dull old friend of her brother's, but for me, she is…why, she is the most charming creature that ever lived."

Darcy resisted the fleeting urge to ask how many young ladies Charles Bingley had ever referred to as "charming creatures", counting at least a half-dozen in his own memory. He shook his head. The words were not important. Any fool could see that Bingley's affections for Georgiana were genuine, and if his sister's unusually distracted presence was anything to judge, she felt the same.

"Have you spoken to Georgiana? Does she care for you?" he asked, keeping his voice neutral.

"I did not like to…" Charles shrugged his shoulders, suddenly appearing far younger than his years. "I would not wish to upset her."

This was too much, and Darcy let out a roar of laughter.

"Upset her? My dear fellow, I do not think hearing that you care for her could upset a young lady less." He glanced up, sensing some figure approaching from across the lawn, and his laughter died. "But here, do not let me intrude. You may tell her so yourself."

Charles coloured, and Darcy thought for a moment he would refuse, but then he drew himself up to his full height and nodded, striding forward. He hesitated as he passed Darcy, turning back to him with a wary look in his eye.

"And if she agrees, if she feels the same, will you -"?

"I will not stand in your way," Darcy promised. "I care for you both. That you might care for one another will make the job of allowing a marriage that much easier for me." He ended his words in a harrumph as Georgiana drew close enough that they might be overheard, and smiled, waving as his sister joined them.

"Good afternoon, Georgiana!" he said. "Were you looking for us?"

"N-no!" Georgiana stammered, her cheeks flushing to indicate that that was precisely what she had been about, but that she would not admit it under even the most forceful of encouragements.

"Well, you have found us nonetheless." Darcy glanced around, seeking inspiration from the grounds. He saw the hunched figure of his chief gardener and seized upon the opportunity to absent himself a little distance. "Here is just the man! Excuse me, I must make a few enquiries about the trees…" he trailed off, vaguely, but neither Mr Bingley nor Georgiana was listening to his fumbled excuse. "Charles, why don't you escort Georgiana back towards the house? I shall follow after you, and we might hunt out my wife and see to some tea."

This suggestion was met with but the vaguest of nods from the young couple, and Darcy retreated a few paces, turning just in time to see Charles Bingley offer his arm to Georgiana and she take it, hesitatingly, and turn towards home.


	24. Chapter 24

_A/N - Here we are, "The End" at last!_

 _This series started as a short story matching Mary and the Colonel, and grew...and grew! Thank you so much for following along and I hope that you have enjoyed reading this as much as I have writing it!_

 _I'm juggling different projects at the moment but hoping to be back soon with some more P &P or Persuasion stories, or maybe dipping my toe into something Mansfield if you've read and enjoyed any of my other stories you'll be up for something new in the next couple of weeks. Sorry for unintentional vague-ary but I'm still tinkering with a few ideas and not sure what has potential yet._

 _Thank you so, so much for all the comments and for sticking with this series - I hope you've enjoyed it :)_

 _See you soon xxx_

* * *

"Engaged? Oh, how wonderful!" Elizabeth was so delighted by the news of Georgiana and Mr Bingley's engagement that she was unsure who to embrace first, and ended up throwing her arms around both parties of the happy couple, before releasing them and turning to her husband, who was beaming just as happily over the pair as if he had had some hand in securing the match.

Anne was next to join in the round of embracing, and with exultation, a fresh pot of tea was ordered, and Charles Bingley pressed to join them for dinner. Charles, who was beaming at everybody in a state of almost perfect bliss, seemed ill-disposed to refuse anything to anyone, and agreed with a hearty nod.

Before Elizabeth could look at Darcy, he had already offered the same to Anne, who smiled graciously at the invitation but refused, remarking upon the time and making plans to leave for the lodge. Darcy was just as quick to offer himself as an escort, and the two cousins departed, leaving Elizabeth alone with the newly engaged Mr Bingley and Georgiana, who could barely keep from smiling at one another.

"It is just the day for good news!" Elizabeth exclaimed, resting a hand on the letter she had received from Jane. "My sister is planning on travelling north and will stop to visit us."

"Which sister?" Georgiana asked, for she maintained a vested interest in Elizabeth's collection of sisters, seeking to make them all her own friends and confidants and thus expand her small circle of feminine companions.

"Jane," Elizabeth said, risking a glance at Bingley as she uttered the name. He seemed utterly unfazed by the mention of his former paramour, however, his eyes and heart clearly only and all for Georgiana. When he did acknowledge the promised visit it was with pleased anticipation.

"How pleasant it will be for you to be reunited, Mrs Darcy, for you have not often had a chance to be together since…well, since you were married!"

Elizabeth laughed.

"That is true, and certainly it seems as if getting married is the fashion now!" She beamed, as the couple before her descended into a happy conversation on where and when their planned wedding might take place, for, having decided it now seemed incumbent on both that they do not delay the happy day any longer than was strictly necessary. It was Elizabeth who reminded Mr Bingley that as yet he had not informed his sisters of his engagement, and the surprise was apparent on his features.

"Goodness, you're right! There is such a lot to remember when one is engaged, is not that so, Georgiana my dear?"

"Do you think they will mind?" Georgiana asked, biting her lip as if the thought of being refused by Mr Bingley's sister's caused her great concern.

"Why on earth should they?" Bingley asked, shocked at the notion that a single person alive could disapprove of the young lady beside him. "And in any case even if they did it would hardly be enough to prevent me marrying you anyway! Now, where do you think we should have the wedding? Newton's chapel is a pretty little church, or would you prefer something grander?"

This provoked a very definite shake of the head, as Georgiana made her excitable husband curtail his wishes for extravagance and promise that they might keep their wedding small, surrounded only by their close friends and family.

Discussions about the wedding were well advanced when Darcy returned, having settled Anne at home, passed a cursory word or two with Wickham, and hurried back, eager to be amongst his family once more. He reached Elizabeth's side with a warm smile, and his hand found hers.

"I still cannot believe you did not have some role in this!" she observed, in a whisper too low for the excited young couple before them to discern over their own conversation.

"What role would I have? I scarcely imagined such a match possible until you suggested it!" He raised his eyebrows. "If Charles needed a little encouragement to speak then that is hardly within my remit: recall I was guarded enough over my own feelings, what right would I have to interfere in another's?"

Elizabeth nodded, but her smile did not diminish. She knew her husband was as delighted with the prospect of his friend and his sister's marriage as they were themselves, and soon enough he began offering his own suggestions of considerations for their future together as if he, himself, had orchestrated the entire thing.

The fire blazed, and the candles danced with merry light as the evening wore on. Pemberley echoed with laughter and conversation and, later, music, as Georgiana was pressed to play for them, selecting the music she knew her beloved preferred best of all. As it grew late, and Charles Bingley made a motion to leave, Elizabeth turned to her husband, snatching a moment where they might speak unheard and unobserved.

"Are you truly content with things?" she asked, nodding towards Georgiana. "Will you be happy with your sister married to Mr Bingley?"

"I will be happy that she is happy," he said, with a nod. "It is all I can ask for that they are as content in their marriage as we are. And recall, they are starting it knowing each other rather better than we did."

Elizabeth leaned into her husband's embrace.

"I think we knew each other rather better than we thought," she said, dreamily. "Our marriage may have been a convenient one, but I don't think either of us could doubt its veracity. I loved you then, though I might have been slow to admit it." She smiled. "I love you more now."

"And I love you, Mrs Darcy."

Arm in arm they walked the corridors of their home, bidding their guest good evening and happily reflecting on their plans for the future.

 _The End_


End file.
